


Night Moves

by o0aurora0o



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Awkwardness, BAMF Natasha Romanov, BAMF Original Character, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bisexual Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Loves Dogs, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, F/F, Femslash, First Dates, Flashbacks, Fluff, Humour, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Lesbian Natasha Romanov, Military Homophobia, Military Sexism, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Not Canon Compliant, Not Civil War Canon, Original Bisexual Character, POV Lesbian Character, POV Natasha Romanov, POV Sam Wilson, PTSD, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Past Relationship(s), Past Sexual Assault, Person of Colour Original Character(s), Person of Colour Original Female Character(s), Platonic Relationships, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Protective Avengers, Sam Wilson & Original Character Friendship, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, The Punisher spoilers, Tony Stark Has A Heart, War, im sorry, kind of, this is very fluffy but also very angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-06-06 09:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 42
Words: 102,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15191714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o0aurora0o/pseuds/o0aurora0o
Summary: Alaina Gunley: Ex-military, ex-card collector, a bit of a loser, horrible at puns, Sam's best friend.Natasha Romanoff: Ex-assassin, effortlessly beautiful, the cool girl, Alaina's crush.When Alaina is forced into an Avengers night-in by Sam, she realises that the Avengers are not as bad as she thought they would be. Especially when red catches her eye.





	1. Prologue

Alaina Gunley had a hot cup of coffee nursed between her palms, heating up her already warm skin. She was currently on break and planned to sit outside alone, but Sam Wilson sent her a short text saying that he was going to meet up with her without any warning, and he didn't give her a chance to reply before he entered the cafe. But that was Sam for you. Apparently, the superhero life meant a very inconsistent schedule, which also meant having too much time to see your friends.

He was wearing a very inconspicuous set of sunglasses and a baseball cap to hide his identity, as well as a baggy hoodie. Very inconspicuous, indeed. Unlike Alaina's number-two-brown-coloured apron.

Sam took a sip of his drink and grimaced, smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Tastes like asshole," he murmured, lip curled.

Alaina kicked his shin, making him yelp and hit his knee on the underside of the table. "Coming from the asshole. It's the best damn coffee in New York, don't argue with me." Sam usually went with something light, with a lot of sugar and even more milk, but decided to expand his taste and try black coffee. Wasn't a fan, apparently.

"God, you're so bitter, Al," he said, a grin beginning to spread across his lips.

"Sam. Please, don't."

"Just like your coffee."

"You're lucky we're in a public area." She raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her own black coffee.

"Oh, really?" Sam asked.

"Yup, really."

"Or what?"

"I'll, uh... grind you like a coffee bean."

Sam groaned, hanging his head between his shoulders. Even Al had to admit that it was bad. And she loved puns. "I actually hate you."

"Gotta admit that was weak. Just like what you usually drink, you pansy." She nudged him lightly with her foot. "Plus, it's better than  _you're so bitter_ , Sammy."

After a snort of response, the two elapsed back into a comfortable silence, Sam doing something on his phone while he took the occasional gulp of his drink - _tastes like asshole_ , my ass - while Al closed her eyes, basking in the heat of the Spring morning.

Sam has been Alaina's first ever- well, her only ever friend, really. She had other people that she spoke to and had friendships with, but none could ever top Sam. If soulmates existed, he would be hers, no question, although he would disagree since, like every other guy she knew, he didn't like showing his emotions.

The way they met wasn't traditional. Sam didn't make some heroic gesture and stop bullies from hurting her, and Al didn't volunteer to help him on a science project. Instead, during playtime at school, Sam, the 7-year-old prick he was, threw a rock at Alaina's head. It hurt like a bitch, so Al, being a 7-year-old asshole, turned around and punched him in the throat. There was blood and bruises, sweat and tears, and after visiting the school nurse who handed them a wet paper towel - why the hell was it always a wet paper towel? - the two had to sit down in their classroom and apologise. Neither apologised, even to this day they never said sorry for what they did, but instead, they found themselves getting along. They mostly talked about  _Magic: The Gathering_  trading cards, although Sam would argue that he never collected nor traded cards (he definitely did).

After that incident, they were buddies, but not best buddies because Sam's friends would laugh and call her his girlfriend, and Al was a huge loser until college, so she couldn't blame him. However, when they reached middle school, their friends departed into different groups and ditched them for the cooler kids, so they made the choice to just start hanging out. Nothing changed in the years they didn't talk; they both got along far too well and always hung out in the field to trade cards. There was so much trading that it got to the point of everyone in the school assumed that when they went to the back of the field, they were doing the, uh, _dirty_ , and no one second-guessed it. Took the same classes and everything, funnily enough.

Alaina knew the friendship was going to last when they opened up to each other in high school, both learning that their mothers abandoned them, leaving them with just their father and no other family. She was a single child, but Sam had a younger sister named Sarah who now lived in Oregon with a husband and two kids. Before she moved out, their families bonded into one and Al called Sam's dad her Uncle Paul, Sam called her dad Pops. They went on to be roommates in college and then they served in the army together.

And to think it all started with a rock to the head and a fist to the throat.

Al's attention was drawn back to her friend when he put down his phone, sucking his lips between his teeth. "Hey, uh, babe?" He stared at her sheepishly.

Sighing through her nostrils, Alaina tried to think happy thoughts. "What have you done this time?" she asked.

"Do you know how I've always wanted to introduce you to some of the team?" he asked. She nodded slowly, a bad feeling building up in her gut. "Well, we're having a movie night, and I may or may not have told them that you wanted to… come with." He attempted putting on a bright smile, lips pulled back but his shoulders were tense.

"Sam." Al set down her coffee, shaking her head. Sam wrung his hands together; the bastard knew she didn't want this. "Firstly, you know that I don't want to be part of your superhero crap, especially after Steve Rogers almost got you killed. Secondly, you know I don't like parties-"

"It's not a party," he cut her off, earning him a sharp look. "And, uh, it was technically Bucky Barnes. That put me in hospital. Not Steve."

"You think that helps his case? You literally fell 1,000 feet from the sky and was in a coma for a week," she stated firmly, frustration ebbing her tone. "I don't want to meet them, Sam. I told you a million times that I don't want to get involved."

"Al," Sam breathed. "I know you only like about three of the dozen, but please... they're my only real buddies outside you and Curt. You don't have to do it for yourself, but please meet them for me. And..." the corner of his lip twitched into a smirk, "Hawkeye is especially excited to meet you."

She couldn't help it, her jaw went slack. "Now you're just fucking with me."

"Not fucking with you," he reassured her, tapping his foot against hers gently. "I told him about how good you are with weapons and fighting, mentioned that you were in the special forces, and him being an assassin and weapon expert and everything else, he wants to meet you. Like,  _really_  wants to meet you. I'd say in no time you can find a new best friend." He glanced behind Al, towards her co-workers who were laughing behind the counter. "It's not like you have any friends here, anyway."

He had a point there, despite how blunt he sounded. Alaina has been the longest working employee at The Coffee Shop - yes, a very original name for a place that serves coffee - yet despite that, she wasn't friends with any of her co-workers. There were a few people she got along with, but it was always the ones that had the night shifts. Her fellow morning workers were all straight woman, younger than her, and although she was fine with that, when you're a gay girl surrounded by straight girls, especially pretty ones with big egos, every nice comment is passed off as flirting. Al gave up trying to be nice when one waitress told her she wasn't interested in dykes after she said, ' _have a nice day_ '.

"I'm not letting you use my weaknesses against me like this," Alaina said.

Sam shrugged a shoulder, curling his lip. "I'll never understand the crush you have on mister 5'8" when we have Thor and Black Widow on our team, just saying."

"Hey, I'm not saying I wouldn't bang either Thor or Black Widow. I'd do any of the team," she argued. Sam winced, probably at the thought of his best friend going at it with any of The Avengers. "And there's nothing wrong with being a small guy."

"You're, like, three inches taller than him."

"Two inches," Al corrected.

"Okay." Sam shook his head. "This is beside the point. Movie night. You get to meet your favourite superhero in person. Are you in?"

Al sighed, defeated. God, was she really going to do this? "When is it?"

There was a short pause. "Tonight."

"Sam?"

"Yes, babe?"

"I hate you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I creating a lesbian Natasha x OC fic just because I can? Yup. Is this the polar opposite of anything else I have ever written? Most definitely. Have I written this to satisfy my selfish gay needs? Damn RIGHT I did.
> 
> This is very short (b/c it's a prologue) but the main chapters will definitely be longer.


	2. Meeting (Some) of the Team

**_Alaina_**

The hands clutching Alaina's shirt trembled. "I don't think I can do this, Sammy," she said, balancing her phone between her ear and shoulder. She threw the shirt into one of the many washing machines inside the laundromat. "I know I've said a lot of bad shit about them, but I can't meet The Avengers. I just can't." The man sitting on the bench to her left gave her a strange look, snorting when she met his expression with a glare.

" _Take a breath, babe_ ," Sam said reassuringly over the phone. " _If I can hang out with them and not have an anxiety attack, you can, too. I'm just an average Joe, remember?_ "

"You're a fucking superhero!" she exclaimed. "You literally fly, with  _wings_."

The man to her left scoffed, muttering, "Fuckin' crazy bitch."

Al turned to look at him in disgust. "If you've got a problem, say it a bit louder, please." She shook her head and turned back to the task at hand. "You save lives, Sam," Al said a little quieter. "You've saved the world, you're friends with Tony Stark, for god’s sake." Picking up a pair of socks from her basket, she glanced down and saw that they were Thor socks, with little Mjolnir’s scattered across them. Jesus, this is embarrassing. "I'm gonna have to cancel. Just tell them I got food poisoning or something. People never question explosive diarrhoea.”

"Al." Sam chuckled. "They want to meet you, superhero or not. Obviously, I'm not gonna force you to stay if you're uncomfortable, but I am gonna ask you to stay for at least an hour." Al blew out a heavy breath, slamming the machine door shut. The clothes started to spin, so she walked backwards until the backs of her knees hit the bench, collapsing onto it. The man who called her a crazy bitch was now gone, thank goodness. "Clint is super stoked, won't shut up about how boring I am for not discussing every weapon known to man."

Al rolled her eyes. "Emotional manipulation," she murmured. "That's actually emotional manipulation and I will not stand for it."

"Why? Because you have a hard-on for the weakest Avenger?"

"Samuel, you and I have talked about this before. The weakest Avenger is Iron Man and nothing you say can..." she stopped herself. "He doesn't, like, listen in on conversations, right?"

"Nope, Jarvis only monitors calls and deletes them after 30 days," Sam confirmed, making Al sigh in relief. "But I already told him your very strong opinions on the matter, so no need to worry, babe."

"Sam?"

"Hm?"

"You're a dick."

* * *

It was hitting 9 p.m. by the time Alaina reached the Avengers Tower, and she was already feeling low. She had some cheap beer - like, below-the-barrel beer - and microwaved mac n cheese for her dinner, so her hunger was, well, still there. After Sam nicely reminded her that it was a movie night and she didn't need to dress up nicely, she threw on a pair of leggings and an old baggy jumper with a tank top underneath. The jumper had no zipper but it was one of her favourites, extremely soft on the inside and warm to wear in New York weather.

Walking through New York made her realise how much she hated everyone living in it. Not owning a car had absolutely no uses apart from making sure you're keeping fit, but Al wished that was the reason she didn't own one. Simply, she barely had enough money for food let alone for a fully working vehicle. Despite just being a pedestrian, cars still beeped at her, one guy almost ploughed right over her and had the audacity to swear at her... god, she was going to kill someone one day.

Al sent Sam a text saying she was here, standing in front of the huge entrance, unsurely. In photos, it looked big. The view from her apartment window? Yes, it was still big. But up close, staring up at the number of floors, it was bigger than big. Ginormous. Phenomenal. Everyone huge word under the sun.

 **Coming down now** , Sam texted back.  **Give me two mins, Clint won't shut up.**

Al breathed out a chuckle, shoving her phone into her coat pocket. She held her hands to stop them from shaking and rocked on the heels of her feet, waiting for him to show up.

This wasn't a good idea, she already knew it. Alaina didn't have a problem with the Avengers like a lot of people did. None of her family died during the alien invasion, not like she had many living in America anyway, Tony Stark only mildly fucked her over with his nuclear plans while she was serving and almost cost her and Sam their jobs, but she wasn't bitter about that, and she wasn't really affected by the many men that have tried screwing Iron Man (figuratively, not literally). The only thing that had an impact on her was Manhattan when the Winter Soldier and Hydra came back to try, and thankfully failed, to kill everyone.

While Sam was out with Captain America, fighting the enemy, Alaina thought he was out of town to see a friend. He told her he was gonna have a few days off to relax, but when she got a call saying that Sam Wilson was in critical condition, her heart shattered. She never blamed Sam for his behaviour, only Steve Rogers. Maybe it was unfair, but it nearly cost her best friend's life. He was on the top floor and when Al tried going there, and a man with an eye patch stopped her.

* * *

_"I apologise, Miss Gunley," the man said, "but Mr Wilson does not want any visitors right now."_

_"Well, you better tell his dumb ass that I just ran three miles to see him..."_

_"He does not want to be bothered," eyepatch guy told her, holding out his arm to stop her from pushing past him. "He's okay, Miss Gunley, but he needs time to heal."_

_"Yeah," she scoffed, "and if you don't get the hell out of my way, I'll jab your other eye out."_

* * *

Threatening Director Nick Fury, she later learned him to be? Not her proudest moment, she had to admit.

But hey, it got her through.

"Hey, there." Sam appeared, leaning his arm against the open door, grinning widely. "What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

Alaina rolled her eyes, brushing past him. "I'm here because my asshole friend decided it would be fun to torture me."

"Hey, if I was going to torture you, I'd strap you to a chair and make you watch a DC movie that isn't Wonder Woman." He led her to the elevator that was bigger than her bedroom. "Take us to the main floor, Jarvis," Sam said when they were in.

"Woah." Al looked around, wide-eyed as the elevator began to ascend. "First of all, what kind of elevator has sofas?"

" _For when Sir is too intoxicated to stand, Miss Gunley_."

"What the _shit?!_ " Alaina screeched, backing up into Sam with her fist raised.

"It's Stark's A.I., moron," he reminded her, lightly shoving her away.

Al sighed in relief, lowering her arm. A reminder would have been nice.

" _I do profusely apologise, Miss Gunley,_ " the A.I. stated. " _I was warned about your anxiety and PTSD, so I should have known better._ " Al frowned. A robot voice just...  _knew_  about her anxiety? " _I am reading that your hands are trembling, and you are beginning to sweat. Dr. Banner will kindly make you a cup of herbal tea, if you would like me to warn him ahead of time, Miss Gunley?_ "

Al looked down and saw that her hands were indeed shaking. One of the many benefits of having anxiety was that it triggered your fight or flight response, and whenever Alaina wanted to run in the other direction her hands would display that. It was one of the ways Sam could read her like an open book. If she was clutching her fingers to hide the trembling, he'd know she wanted to leave and take her out for a breather. "Um, no thank you, Jarvis. But thank you anyway."

"We're gonna take it slow, okay? You doing alright?" Sam asked her quietly.

"Yeah." She smiled, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. "It's only Earth's Mightiest Heroes, you know, the same people who fought a Norse God, aliens, a weird ass machine that tried killing everyone..."

"You're overthinking," Sam cut her off, raising an eyebrow in her direction.

"Yeah, well, when you're not a superhero, you're going to be intimidated in front of a bunch of people who saved the world multiple times."

"You've saved lives too," Sam pointed out.

Alaina shrugged in response.

The elevator doors slid open and Sam stepped out with confidence, and she decided to match his step, head held up, shoulders loose and relaxed, expression soft and friendly... First impressions mattered, after all.

Stepping onto the main floor, Al immediately felt like a lost animal setting foot in the wrong environment. The floor wasn't even something straight out of a magazine, it was better than anything designers could conjure. The first she saw was the giant bar that stretched across the area, the glass shelves lined with expensive-looking bottles and pretty glasses with designs scratched into the surface.

On said bar was Tony Stark himself. He was thankfully facing away from her - she couldn't handle meeting the billionaire playboy first - but next to him was a familiar head of blonde hair, facing her direction. Steve Rogers. He was smiling at whatever Tony was saying, shaking his head with a glint in his eye. Bruce Banner was on the other side of Tony, leaning forward with his elbows braced on the bar's surface.

"Here," Sam said, gently grabbing her arm. "We'll get drinks."

" _Nononono_ ," Alaina hissed, pulling away when she realised who was stood behind the bar. Clint fucking  _Barton_  was stood behind the bar. "What happened to take it slow?"

"You're gonna just sit here until they notice you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She glanced over his shoulder and saw that Steve caught sight of them, gave Tony a little nudge and nodded in their direction. So much for staying hidden.

Clint noticed the gesture and looked over with a bright smile, waving with a glass of brown liquid in his hand. "Come, join us, degenerates!"

Sam laughed and nodded encouragingly to Alaina, whose feet were planted on the tiled floor. She could feel the Avengers' stares burning into her head. "Okay," she whispered, re-loosening her rigid shoulders. "I can do this," she assured herself. "Strong independent woman and all that."

"You've got this," was the last thing Sam said before turning away from her and making his way over to his friends. Al followed him, trying not to trail behind too far. It would better if Sam simply introduced them, rather than having to go through the awkward interactions of small talk. Well, Tony Stark didn't seem like a small talk kind of guy.

"Already got your beer, Sam," Clint stated when they approached, near slamming a bottle of green beer on the counter. "And you!" He dramatically swung his head towards Al, who instinctively froze. "Sam's held you in high regard, so my standards are bigger than Stark's ego." Tony, unbothered by the mild insult, shrugged.

"Uh..." She gaped at him, both in shock and admiration, but mostly shock. Hawkeye just said that to her. Hawkeye said. _To her_. The Hawkeye just spoke to her and -  _oh, Jesus Christ_  - she could literally just reach out and touch him, right now. If she really wanted.

"Dude." Sam shook his head at the archer, who shrugged with raised eyebrows. "At least let me do introductions before you start screaming at the people I like. Al," he pushed her forward slightly, "Clint, Bruce, Tony and Steve." He gestured to each person as if they actually needed an introduction. Tony had a side-smirk plastered on his face and gave a small wave, Bruce smiled warmly which made Al immediately drawn to the man, Clint waved excitedly like a puppy, and Steve gave a tight smile. She guessed that Sam told her about her negative feelings towards the man. "And guys, this is Alaina. But call her Al. Or Ally." He grinned, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"Call me Ally, I'll rip off appendages," she warned lightly, tapping Sam's back where her hand hung before pulling it away. "Doctor Banner," she greeted first, deciding he would be the safest option. "I've heard so much about you. It's good to finally meet the man behind the screen."

Bruce gave a warm smile, accepting Alaina's outstretched hand. His hands were soft with no callouses, and a little clammy, but not to the point of it being sweaty. "You too, Miss Gunley." He let his hand rest back on his thigh. "Sam talks highly of you."

Alaina smiled, feeling his kind expression seep into her own. "Yeah, he tends to do that." She chuckled. "I'll be honest, I've never been a huge science person but you always find a way to make the dullest topics interesting. Your book on nuclear physics was one of my favourites to read in college."

"What the hell is happening?" Stark whispered, looking utterly lost. "Sam, I thought you said she was cool."

"Because I'm not drooling over you?" Al asked, tilting her head towards him.

"Uh, no." He scoffed. "Because no one ever drools over Brucie first. No offence, green man." He patted the doctor on his arm for good measure.

"Come on, Tony," Steve sighed. "She just got here. Let's not try to overwhelm her."

"Usually, the non-overwhelming comes from introducing people to Barton or Banner." Stark cocked an eyebrow, raising his glass to gesture in Al's direction. "But this one thinks that I'm-  _I'm_ the weakest Avenger!"

Clint, who unfortunately took a swig of his drink as Tony spoke, almost spat his drink out at the comment, covering his mouth just in time.

"Dude!" Al hissed, elbowing Sam in the ribs.

"Hey, you said it."

"Finally!" Barton exclaimed, grinning like mad. "Someone who actually speaks sense!"

Stark stared jaw-slacked at his friends as they suppressed smiles, glaring at Clint who was outright laughing to his face.

Steve decided it was time to cut in, shifting to the edge of his stool and holding out his hand when the two toddlers started arguing, waving their arms around enthusiastically. "Miss Gunley," he started. "It's nice to meet the face behind all the stories Sam told us."

Alaina had to force herself to smile, pushing down her feelings of resentment towards the man. He wasn't a bad person, she had to remind herself. "Captain Rogers," she said, curtly shaking his hand, trying to hide the shaking in her fingers. "It's good to meet you, too." She pulled away rather abruptly, earning a sharp nudge from Sam on her left side. Okay, she could be friendly. "Sam used to be a huge fan of you, you know. Had a poster up in our room in college, always said he wanted to be the black Captain America. Or the first black superhero, or... something. He was always at the gym, wanting to match your physique."

Steve looked at Sam quizzically, a smile hinting on the lines of his lips.

"Can't blame me, man. Your bicep is the width of my head." Sam shrugged and turned to Al. "But if  _I_  could be the black Captain America..."

"You could be the black Black Widow?" Clint cut in, sounding far too enthusiastic. "Wow, that's such a great name. I'm a literature genius. Come at me with your MIT,  _Stark_. Ooooh,  _wait_ , black Scarlett Witch! That's, like,  _two_  colours." Al pressed her lips together to stop herself from laughing out loud. He was far less intimidating than she was expecting. "Hey, if you could have a superhero name, what would it be?" he asked Alaina.

"Uhh," she responded dumbly. "I... well, I don't have any special abilities to link it to, so..."

"Bull.  _Shit_ ," Stark cut in, tipping his head back. "You're a badass fighter, a weapons master, super intelligent-"

"I wouldn't go that far," she interrupted, wringing her fingers together. Was Tony Stark complimenting her on her brains? Man, she could die right now and feel fulfilled.

"How many degrees and masters did you get in how many years?"

"Listen..." Alaina pursed her lips.

"A Psychology and Child Counselling masters degree, a regular degree in Health and Social Care, you specialise in body language and behavioural studies, got full GPA's, straight-A student, became a lecturer for 6 months, all before you joined the army at 22." Tony held his hands up, mimicking an explosion. "Boom."

Alaina shrugged, a little bashful at the wide-eyed looks she was getting from the men around her. "It doesn't sound as impressive when you compare it to Doctor Banner's 7 PhD's, and the fact you graduated MIT at 15 and got over 10 majors.

Tony waved his hand like he was dismissing the idea. "But I didn't do it in 5 years," he pointed out.

"Yeah, you only got 10 majors in 6 years." Clint fake gagged, rolling his eyes. "But  _that's_  impressive," he said to Al. She flushed bright red at his words. "Kinda surprised Sam hasn't mentioned that before."

"Wait, so how did you know...?"

"Want a drink?" Clint asked, cutting her off with a bright smile.

"Yeah, sure." She snapped out of her stupor when the man proceeded to look at her expectantly. "Oh, uh. Bourbon. Or anything in the whiskey family, really."

"My kinda gal." Stark nodded in approval, turning his back to her to resume his conversation with Steve. It was slightly rude, but she guessed it wasn't personal, but more of a Tony Stark-esque thing.

"So." Clint slammed a glass on the bar and filled three fingers of it with bourbon. Al decided to keep her eyes away from the label, too self-conscious of her own earnings to know the price of a single bottle of alcohol in Tony Stark’s possession. "Take a seat."

Alaina, rather awkwardly, pushed herself on the empty seat next to Bruce, mentally screaming at Sam who was speaking with Steve and Tony to save her from the humiliation that was likely to occur. You're just sat next to the Incredible Hulk and Hawkeye, no big deal at all. No big deal.

"I thought there'd be more of you down here," Al said.

"Oh, right, yeah." Clint shook his head, obviously drinking a little too heavily for his own good. "Thor is still in Asgard with Loki, Wanda and Vision are on vacation somewhere super nice, and Tasha's upstairs getting ready. Wants to make a good impression on you or something."

Al's eyebrows rose dramatically. "Tasha- as in...  _Natasha_ , Black Widow?" she asked. Clint nodded. "Natasha Romanoff wants to make a good impression on me?"

Bruce Banner, sat on her right, smiled at her like he knew something she didn't.

"She's like a really burnt marshmallow, you know?" Clint said, swaying a bit. No, Clint. I do not know. "Also, before we get started, I gotta ask about your name."

"Gunley, right?" Al asked, smiling a little dumbly. "Yeah, got a bunch of shit for that when I served, especially since I was the Sargent and known as the master of guns. It was mostly the new guys that made stupid jokes, but they soon learned it wasn't funny." She glanced over Bruce's shoulder to Sam, who was giving Stark the _I-hope-you-didn't-just-say-that_ look. Usually, she would join in with his conversation and see what Sam looked pissed about, but she was talking to  _Hawkeye_  for fucks sake. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. "The only time I've ever laughed at one of those jokes was when me, Sammy and a few other guys went out for dinner and drinks. They got hammered, started messing around, a salt shaker ended up breaking and I got that shit all over me, I swear it was in my hair for weeks. Sammy just paused and stared at me with this stupid fucking grin on his face, pointed at me and shouted ' _watch out for the 'a-salt rifle!_ '. I swear," she choked back a laugh, "I think I snorted some salt I was laughing so hard. Guess I was a bit drunk, too, looking back."

"Man, you've got to give me all the dirt on Wilson." Clint chuckled before downing his drink. Al decided to follow suit with her own, because why the hell not? "You've known each other your entire lives, yeah? Gotta give me something good. Just a lil tease."

"Didn't you say something about testing weapon knowledge?" she tilted her head.

Clint chewed his lip in thought, narrowing his eyes in her direction. "Okay, okay, we'll start simple," he said. "Is it better to have an assault rifle or sniper rifle in a doomsday situation?"

"Zombies or robots taking over the world?" she asked.

"Does it make a difference?" he countered.

Al gaped at him. "As a gun expert, I hope you know that it damn does make a difference."

"T’was a test, young padawan," he jeered, reaching over to pat her shoulder. Hawkeye just touched her, Jesus Haymitch Christ. "But I'd like an answer to both."

"Well," Al began, tapping her fingers against her empty glass. "In an  _robot-taking-over-planet-earth_  situation, assuming they're A.I.'s and are super-duper smart, I'd want a sniper rifle." She noticed his eyebrows raise minutely. "Rushing in with an assault rifle isn't the best idea because, well, they could easily overpower you up close. They're smart, zombies aren't. And they'd probably have weapons attached to them so, like I just said, going in up close isn't a great idea. However, with zombies, going in on them with an AR will be more effective because it'll take them out quicker. Or just throwing a shit ton of grenades." She clicked her fingers into finger guns. "Boom."

"Don't get too cocky now," Clint leaned over the bar and tapped her forehead, a little clumsily might she add. And for no particular reason. "This is just the start."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realise that I have yet to introduce Natasha even though this is a fic based around her, but patience is a virtue. She will be here soon, my fellow gays.


	3. Red

**_Alaina_ **

Clint spoke with her for a while about various things. From Sam, parts of her childhood, serving in the army, and weaponry to the life of being a superhero, with Bruce occasionally chiming in with his own input. He was more on the reserved side which wasn't much of a surprise to Alaina considering his counterpart being an angry rage monster. It was a nice contrast to the more boisterous members of the team like Tony and Clint.

It was shockingly nice talking to them, though. Her hands stopped shaking and she grew more confident with each sentence that passed, even throwing in the occasional anecdote (which was not her forte). Even Tony Stark left his conversation with Sam and Steve after Clint burst out laughing at Al's story: the first time Sam smoked, when he coughed so hard that he farted and nearly shat himself. Sam was protesting heavily, trying to cut off her words and blushing like crazy, and Steve eventually mustered the courage to join in after finishing his glass of lemonade.

 _The_  Avengers were crowded around  _her_ , listening to  _her_  stories and laughing along with  _her_  jokes. It was crazy. Mind-blowingly crazy.

Steve was the first to leave, after about 30 minutes, saying that he was going to sit on the more comfortable sofas, and then Sam followed with Bruce trailing behind soon after. Clint literally slid over the bar after laughing hysterically at the word gazebo, nearly falling flat on his face, leaving just Al and Tony Stark, sat on stools facing each other.

There was a light buzz lingering in her mind, but she was yet to be tipsy. The same with Stark, judging by the amount he was drinking and how sober he was acting.

"So why are you still working at some 3-star cafe if you have all of those qualifications?" he asked her after a short discussion about her education, tracing his finger absentmindedly over the rim of his glass.

"I guess it's the change," she replied as honestly as she could, shrugging a shoulder. "Haven't exactly had the best life experiences. After... Well, I guess after my partner, Riley, died, after I left the army, it was hard to cope, you know? Every time I saw some skinny dude with blonde hair, I thought of him and I hated the feeling it gave me." Tony nodded slowly in understanding. "It was pretty much PTSD episode after panic attack after anxiety fucking my life up. Initially, I applied to be a teacher, but, uh, stuff happened. And I was fired." At his confused expression, Alaina elaborated. "I worked in a middle school for a few weeks and one of the teachers found out I was gay. It was when I lived in Maryland for a bit, the school was in West Virginia, so they could legally fire me. And, well, they did."

"You didn't go to court?" Tony asked, a line appearing between his eyebrows.

"Didn't even try. I doubt they'd take a gay, half-black girl's story over some straight rich white dude," she pointed out, before shaking her head. "Anyway, yeah. Before I was sacked, it was great. I loved the kids, they were angsty as hell but I think they liked me, too. I hope so, anyway."

Tony dropped the touchy subject, but it didn't look like he wanted to, judging by the frown he was giving her. "You know, I could probably find you a teaching job in the area. High school, though. Ever heard of Midtown?" Al shook her head. "It's a cute little place in Queens. I could easily find you a job there."

Alaina blinked. Okay, she was not expecting him to say that. "Oh, uh... That's really nice of you, Mr Stark-"

"Please, just Tony." He waved his free arm around. "We're not in a business meeting."

She felt her cheeks redden. "Sorry, Tony," she corrected. "But I'll definitely think on that. Um, you don't have to feel like you gotta to do it just because I'm Sam's friend or anything. I'll find something better than waitressing eventually, anyway. Can't be there in 40 years telling someone the difference between Cappuccino and Frappuccino."

" _But_  Tony Stark putting in a good word will guarantee a job, one-hundred-percent," he stated. Although it sounded arrogant, it was very true. Talking to him, Al pretty much forgot about the billionaire playboy part of him. He was a vastly different person to how the media portrayed him. "But it's up to you."

"Well, thank you--"

"Miss Ally G!" Sam yelled from across the room, cupping his palms around his mouth. "Get yo ass over here or suffer the consequences."

"Jesus Christ," Al muttered.

"Looks like you're wanted." Tony raised an eyebrow, nodding his head towards the man beckoning her over. "Go get 'em, tiger."

"You're not joining?" she asked, ass hovering over the seat.

He checked his watch, humming. "Give me five minutes before the drinks kick in. Widow'll be joining soon, so try not to piss yourself with fear."

"Got it." Al laughed heartedly before leaving Tony alone to his drinks and thoughts.

She took a seat next to Sam on one of the many plush chairs, resting an elbow on the armrest and pulling her feet up to rest by Sam's thigh. He was swaying slightly, grinning at his friend like he knew all of the world's secrets without saying anything.

"The hell are you thinking about?" she asked.

"'Bout how you need to get laid."

"Oh, my god," Steve mumbled, rubbing the heel of his palm against his forehead.

"It's not even ten and you're how drunk?" she asked.

"Being sober is for the  _weak!_ " Clint shouted the last word, fist-bumping the air.

"Do you wanna know what else I was thinking?" Sam asked.

"Sam," Bruce warned softly.

"No, I really don't want to know."

"About how Nat needs to get laid, too," he whisper-shouted in her ear. Good god. "She's on her way down and I think you two would be a bomb couple. When was the last time you were in a relationship, huh?"

"I hear relationship," Tony intercepted, joining the group. He set Al's forgotten glass on the table in front of her, filling it with a bottle of bourbon he brought with him. She gave a small nod and he sent her a grin in response, taking the free chair opposite her and Sam. It was set up a bit like a meeting, with four large sofas and two one-person chairs surrounding a gigantic coffee table. "Wait, are you two, like... together?" he asked, pointing between her and Sam.

"Tony..." Steve sighed.

"Jesus Christ, no," Al scoffed, shaking her head.

"Wow, sound more grossed out by that idea, please," Sam said, pouting, before acknowledging Tony. "And she has a thing for Nat, not me."

" _Sam_ -"

"You have a thing for Romanoff?!" Tony exclaimed, looking gleeful at the idea.

"What? No, I haven't even met her."

"Okay, but you definitely have a thing for birdboy," Tony said with a smirk.

"Ha, no, no," she pointed at him, and then at Sam who snorted, " _no_. I don't know which birdboy you're referring to but definitely neither. I have a thing for absolutely nobody, I'm just... a fan. And we're not talking about this."

" _Sir, I would suggest you cease this conversation as Miss Romanoff is on her way down_ ," Jarvis said. Talk about perfect timing.

When the elevator doors slid open, Alaina had to clutch her glass of amber liquid as hard as she could to stop herself from freaking out. She sent Sam a panicked look and he smiled widely, a little drunkenly, giving Al's ankle a light squeeze of encouragement.

It's totally cool, you're just about to meet one of the most dangerous assassin's alive who could probably crush your neck with her thighs.

_She kind of wants her to crush her neck with her thighs._

Stop being gay.

_Got it._

She looked back to see the woman in the flesh and... holy crap.

Of course, Al knew that Black Widow was going to be stunning, but she didn't realise just how stunning. All of the Avengers were attractive, that was just a known fact, and she's seen all of their merchandise and posters because Sam always dragged her to Target just so he could drool at himself, but a 2D piece of paper didn't do Natasha Romanoff justice. Her hair was red, not the dyed bright red like the pictures showed, but more of a muted red with ginger undertones. Her eyes were a bright emerald green which contrasted with her pale skin, almost giving her a cartoon-ish look. But not fake-cartoon-ish. Just… stunning.

Clint stumbled towards Natasha and wrapped her in a giant bear-hug, muttering something in her ear with a girlish giggle. She laughed in response, patted his back, and carefully nudged herself away from him. She walked over to Bruce and ruffled his curly hair, winking when he tried adjusting the strands to their original position.

Al silently shook her head at Tony, who was grinning at her with the same expression Sam used whenever he tried to set her up. It wasn't a good look.

Her eyes drifted back to Black Widow, and their eyes met, brown clashing with green.

Al felt like she was going to pass out.

The woman smiled warmly, stepping over Tony's feet to hold her hand out to Al, who took it graciously, though a little shakily.

"You must be the Alaina Gunley I hear so much about," her silky voice fluttered in Al's ears. Her hands were surprisingly soft, gentle against Alaina's calloused fingers. "I'm Natasha Romanoff."

"It's nice to meet you." She let out a nervous chuckle, feeling the intense heat of Natasha's hand burn through her skin. "Feel free to call me Al, though. Everyone else does." She didn't miss the way Natasha's fingers lingered over Al's palm, how her lips parted into a small smile when she gave her a one-over.

"I like Alaina," she spoke, making Al's heart jump to her throat, mouth drying instantly. Natasha Romanoff just  _complimented_  her?! "It's nice to finally have another girl here. Too much testosterone." And then she winked.

Good god.

"That's sexist!" Tony yelled, ruining the moment.

Heart still pounding relentlessly, Al retorted with, "Coming from the guy who recruited two girls in a group of a dozen guys."

"Woah, woah, wo- hey,  _no_ , that's Fury, not  _me_ ," Tony argued, holding his hands up defensively.

"I like her already," Natasha muttered, tilting her head up with a ghost of a smirk crossing her lips. She was a couple of inches shorter than Al, but that wasn't much of a surprise since Al’s nickname in the high school track team was runner bean (due to her height and the fact she was freakishly fast). Still, Alaina liked shorter girls.

She almost snorted to herself. Like Natasha Romanoff would be interested in a girl like her.

"So, what movie are we watching?" Sam asked, ripping Al from her daydream.

"Well," Tony began, "we should let out guest decide."

* * *

Of course Tony Stark had his own theatre that was undoubtedly better quality than any other theatre Al had been to (not like she has been to many to compare with, but still. It was impressive). It was an extensive room with padded walls, floors and ceiling to keep it soundproof. The screen displaying the movie took up the entire wall that was definitely bigger than her whole apartment, with beanbags and sofas scattered unceremoniously throughout the room. Even if the entirety of S.H.I.E.L.D. was here, there would still be seats to spare.

Alaina took a seat on one of the big beanbags, it was shaped like a sofa but in beanbag form, so it was basically heaven on earth. Clint and Sam were on beanbags, too, while Steve and Bruce took up two of the large sofas. Tony lounged on a lazyboy-esque chair which he claimed that if anyone else sat on it, Jarvis would blast them through the roof - the threat was aimed at Al but she accepted it in stride. Sam and Clint were acting like toddlers, throwing popcorn at each other and giggling like crazy until Tony had enough, took the bowl and threw it behind him. They simply moved closer to the back and started picking popcorn from the ground, eating it straight from the floor.

But speaking of seating arrangements, Alaina was expecting to sit alone, and she was honestly fine with it. She caught how Tony was eyeing Steve, glancing to the seat next to him like he wanted to sit with him - she wondered if they were, like... a _thing_ \- and how relaxed Bruce looked, stretched out on the sofa with his head propped against a pillow. If anything, Al thought she was going to sit with Sam, and she was ready for him to cuddle into her like he always did when he got drunk around her.

The last thing she was expecting was to see Natasha Romanoff plant herself next to Alaina, on the beanbag chair. Not just sit with her on the same piece of furniture but sit so close to Al that she had to balance the bowl of popcorn on both their laps. Their legs, hips, arms and shoulders were pressed together due to the close proximity, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It wasn't awkward or anything remotely close to that, but Al felt genuinely chilled out sat next to the former Russian spy. When Natasha relaxed back into the beanbag so she was almost laying down, Al had no other choice but to copy her movement so they were even closer together, the bowl sliding on their hips from their legs.

Natasha yelled for someone to throw them a pillow, and it was Sam that did. As Al turned to grab the cushion, she caught the exaggerated thumbs up and wink, electing to just ignore him. She positioned the pillow under their heads so they got a better view of the screen. Alaina could feel Natasha's hair brushing against the side of her face. 

 _Why the hell were they so close together?_  Al wasn't complaining, but this was a gay thing, right? Was it a gay thing? Jesus, please be a gay thing.

Tony ordered Jarvis to start the film - Al chose Thelma and Louise, one of her all-time favourites after learning Steve had yet to see it - and then everything calmed down. Clint and Sam stopped bickering, the lights above them faded into darkness, and the screen lit up with the opening title of the film.

As Thelma and Louise left Arkansas to start their weekend vacation, Al felt considerably more relaxed. Natasha's head rested lightly against her shoulder, little puffs of air hitting Al's bare skin each time she breathed.

_"Y'all want a drink?" a waitress asked the iconic duo._

_"No thanks," Louise replied._

_"I'll have a Wild Turkey straight up and a Coke back, please," Thelma told the waitress._

_As the waitress walked away, Louise exclaimed, "Thelma!"_

_"Tell me somethin', is this my vacation or isn't it? I mean, God, you're as bad as Darryl."_

_"I just haven't seen you like this in a while. I'm used to seeing you more sedate."_

_"Well, I've had it up to my ass with sedate! You said you and me was gonna get outta town and, for once, just really let our hair down. Well, darlin,' look out 'cause my hair is comin' down!"_

Alaina smiled sleepily. That was one of her favourite all-time lines.

_Louise laughed and beckoned the waitress back over. "I changed my mind. I'll have a margarita with a shot of Cuervo on the side, please."_

* * *

**_Sam_ **

Clint nudged his arm and pointed forward, to where Nat and Al were basically cuddling on the beanbag sofa.

"We did it!" he whisper-shouted excitedly.

"We need to get them on a date," Sam said.

"Can you two shut the fuck up?" Tony cut in, chucking a pillow at them. Clint's reflexes didn't kick in fast enough, and it ended up hitting him square in the face. Sam snorted.

Natasha had her head in the crook of Al's neck, with Al's arm resting behind the assassin on the back of the beanbag. Her cheek was resting on the crown of Nat's head, eyes closed and breathing softly. After a few moments of silently watching them, Al shifted, leaning her body closer to Natasha's.

He couldn't quite see, but he swore he saw a smile pass Natasha's lips.

Man, he was glad he introduced them.                       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably mentioned this in the first chapter but I'm taking in filler ideas so please leave suggestions! It can be something domestic and fluffy between any character or make it as angsty as you want. This fic is gonna have an actual story and structure (which will eventually involve Peter Parker which I'm super stoked about because I've never written about him before), but I'm still open to literally anything.


	4. No Complaints

_**Alaina**_

It had been a pretty uneventful week since her mundane life could never compare to spending the night with the Avengers. Work was a drag, her landlord was threatening to kick her out if she couldn't pay rent on time, and she hadn't seen or heard much from Sam since the night she met the team. Al wasn't offended; they could go weeks without talking to each other and it wouldn't affect their relationship, they both knew that. They planned to go out to dinner on Saturday, so she was looking forward to that. It has been years since they've been to a restaurant together. Apparently being an Avenger meant having an unlimited paycheck, so he was going to pay for everything. She definitely wasn't complaining.

When Al woke up the following morning post meeting the team, Sam was curled into her side with his head resting on her stomach. She was far too tired to find the guest room and Sam was too drunk to do anything coherently, so that's how they spent the night. Sometimes, Alaina couldn't understand why people thought they were a couple, but if she thought really hard, it was understandable.

And then she remembered that the real Natasha Romanoff and herself slept on the same beanbag, cuddled into one another. Al remembered the feeling of Natasha's soft hair grazing her cheek, how her breaths puffed against her neck, and when her fingers curled into the shirt over Al's stomach.

Flustered by... whatever the hell happened, Alaina didn't even grab a coffee before evacuating the Tower.

God, Natasha probably thought she was really weird.

Al was on her usual commute to the coffee shop, phone held out in front of her and staring down at the screen that displayed Sam's caller ID - which was ' _dickhead'_  - and his photo - an unpleasant low-angled mugshot that she took of him when they went to Spain on holiday last year. It was rare that Al called him first, which was why she was debating calling him.

Fuck it.

He picked up after four rings. " _You know I love you, babe, but why is my favourite gay calling me at this hour?_ "

"We both know your favourite gay is Jane Lynch so don't try me."

" _Yeah, yeah_ ," he responded. Al could almost hear his eye-roll. " _So, why is my second favourite gay calling me at this hour?_ "

"You mean the normal hour that normal people go to work at? Do you even remember what it's like waking up at 6 a.m. every morning, Mr Superhero?" she retorted, earning a side-eye from the woman walking ahead of her. Did everyone in New York eavesdrop? "I'm kinda... giving myself the pink slip. I'm quitting work."

" _Whoa- wait, what?!_ " She heard something crash in the background, wincing. " _What do you mean you're quitting? You've never quit a job, like, ever! Well, only once, but that was because they basically forced you to-_ "

"Why are you reacting more dramatically to this than when I came out to you?" Al asked, shaking her head. She turned the corner, almost crashing into some prick in a suit who sneered at her. "It's not that big of a deal. People do it all the time."

" _But why now? And not how many years ago when you said you'd rather stab yourself in the throat with a fork rather than work another day there?_ "

"Money's shit right now," she explained. "I'm living off microwavable pasta and soggy salad. Can't even afford to get takeout anymore, unless I want to be kicked out of my apartment."

Sam sighed quietly. " _Got a feeling that's not the only reason_ ," he said.

Alaina drew her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment. "I'm not the only one struggling, Sammy," she admitted. "Dad's on more medication and he can't afford it anymore. I've been taking the money for my bills to pay for it, and he can't get a job anymore because of his record." Pausing for a moment, Al waited for Sam's reaction, but he was silent. "He's been doing some house hunting so we can live together when I get enough money. Gonna put those degrees to use and find a better job than being a waitress. $10 an hour isn't really cutting it."

" _Al, why didn't you tell me?_ " Sam asked. His dejected voice punched a hole through the woman's heart, making her immediately feel guilty for keeping him in the dark. " _Stark can give you-_ "

"No," she cut him off firmly. "Tony's already put in a good recommendation for me at a high school. I don't need to take money from him, he's done enough for me as it is, billionaire or not. I want to earn it, not get it because I have connections." Her nostrils flared as she exhaled deeply. "But thanks anyway, Sam."

" _Okay_." There was a short pause. " _Stark didn't tell me that he was helping you with job hunting_."

"Yeah, going for my interview at Midtown High School tonight," Al told him, smiling a little. Hopefully no more working for scumbag people for a scumbag paycheck. "Tony thinks my qualifications could get me anywhere, but he seemed adamant on getting me to work there. Any child superheroes I should know about?" She chuckled.

" _Uhh..._ "

Alaina's smile faltered. "Please don't tell me there are any child superheroes who study at Midtown High School."

" _Uhhhh_..."

" _Sam!_ " Al exclaimed in a hiss. She ducked into a nearby alley and held her hand over the speaker, keeping her voice low. "You recruited a teenager to be part of the Avengers? Are you  _insane?!_  Oh, god, don't tell me it's Negasonic Teenage Warhead."

" _First off, it's actually Spider-Man_ ," Sam corrected like it would help this case. " _Second of all, send your complaints to Stark because it wasn't me who recruited him. Thirdly, he's technically not an Avenger, just a wannabe. So keep your ass in check."_

Al rolled her eyes. "One day I am actually going to kick your ass."

" _Cute_ ," Sam said. " _Oh, everyone's asking when you're next coming around, by the way._ "

"Never."

" _Come on-_ "

"It was mortifying, Sam. I not- not only freaked out internally, a bit externally, too, I also fucking cuddled a deadly assassin the first time meeting her-"

" _Trust me, she wasn't complaining._ "

" _And_  I probably drank most... of Stark's..." Her brain caught up with his words. "What?" she spluttered.

" _She called you hot_."

"Stop screwing with me."

" _Honest to god, I'm not_."

" _He's right!_ " a different voice called from Sam's end. " _She said she's into you- ah!"_

_"One more word, Barton."_

Al ran a hand down her face, horrified. "Please don't tell me she's there, oh, Jesus Christ." That was definitely Natasha's voice.

" _Can't argue with biology, Gingersnaps._ " Was that  _Stark?_

" _ASK! HER! OUT!_ " Clint yelled. " _I! AM! GAY! FOR! YOUR! GAYNESS!_ "

" _You're straight, OG birdboy_ ," Tony pointed out. The only noise Al heard for a few moments was muffled shouting, before it came back clearer. " _So_ ,  _Al_ ," he began. The billionaire must have taken Sam's phone, " _when are you quitting? Today, hopefully? If you want, I can call up and tell them that you don't have to give a week's notice_."

"No, it's okay, Tony, really," Alaina said. Was she really having a mildly normal conversation with Iron Man? Apparently so. Christ, how did Sam do this every day? "I'm on my way right now, actually. Let's just hope my boss doesn't throw a hard-cover copy of Woolly Meets The Chickens: A Huckleberry Farm Story at my head."

" _Judging by the oddly specific description, I'm guessing he's done that before?_ "

"He... tends to drink on the job," she explained. "And sleeps with most of the employees. He also doesn't like people who aren't white, and he believes the government is putting stuff in the water. Anyway," she shook her herself out of those thoughts, "yeah, quitting today. And the interview is later."

" _Yup, I know. I've been keeping tabs_ ," Tony mentioned. Wait, he's been keeping tabs on her? Before she could ask, he continued, " _By the way, I'm having a gala this Saturday and, oh, would you look at that! You're invited._ "

"No-  _what?_ " she muttered. "I'm not saying that I wouldn't love to go to an event filled with rich snobs that flaunt their money and constantly talk about how amazing they are just because they donated a millionth of what they earn to charity, but I already have plans with Sam."

" _Not anymore, sweetcheeks_ ," Tony replied without missing a beat. " _I've cancelled your reservations with Sam-bo so you can dine with the finest. Also,"_ there was protesting in the background and it sounded like Tony was running, _"_ _Le Bernardin? Really, Sam? You couldn't find somewhere classier?"_

"It- That's a four-star restaurant!" Al stammered. "Not all of us swim in dollar bills, you know! You- You can't just cancel reservations like that."

" _Yes, I know, and yes, I can_ ," he replied casually. " _And trust me, I'm very irked that he wouldn't find the best for his better half, but-_ "

" _Hey, come on, that's enough now_ ," Sam said, somewhat of a distance away.

" _You can't hog your friends forever!_ "

Al held the phone away from her ear and began her walking again as they continued to fight over the phone - which was still extremely weird and Alaina couldn't wrap her head around The Avengers fighting to talk to her. It was a full three minutes before they stopped, and she stepped into the cafe, reassuring herself that it would be okay. She was just quitting her job, it was no big deal. People did this all the time, doing it once wasn't going to start an uprising.

" _Al?_ "

She held the phone back to her ear as she gave the  _I'll be one minute sign_  to her manager. "I'm at work now, Sammy. I'll talk to you later, alright?"

" _Okay, I'll see you soon, babe. Good luck._ "

Al took a deep breath.

She could do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay humble and stay gay.


	5. Sam The Man

_**Sam** _

Sam whistled idly as he manoeuvred around Al's small kitchen, finding anything that wasn't processed or microwavable, so yes, he couldn't find anything. She wasn't lying when she said she was living off literal shit. He was almost disgusted. But in all fairness, Sam had been the exact same since leaving the army until he met Steve Rogers and became an official Avenger. Each floor in the Tower had a kitchen that was bigger than her whole apartment and cupboards larger than her wardrobe, so the lack of food was almost impressive. Pepper would probably have a fit if she was here. Sam was about half way there.

Sam had breakfast, finished his morning run with Steve, got coffee with Clint - who wouldn't shut up about his ' _new bestie, Alaina Gunley'_  - and hassled Tony about the upgrade for his wings, and in all that time, Al was still sleeping. On a Saturday, past noon for goodness sake. At first, he honest to god thought she was dead when she didn't answer his calls because he was used to her being up before 8 - he still didn't know how she could do that every single day - so he found the old key she gave to him years ago in the bottom of his drawer and went to her apartment.

He eventually found a half-empty packet of bacon that was turning green around the edges in her fridge, which only held a carton of milk, half a block of cheese, and a 4-pack beer. The only thing in her freezer was a tray of ice cubes. They weren't even filled, just empty pieces of freezing cold plastic.

Yup, definitely needs a better-paid job.

Sam poured a fair amount of olive oil into a scratched to hell frying pan and turned on the stove.

5 minutes into cooking, Sam heard the bedroom door open. Her apartment was set up in a way that made it have very few rooms so the living room and kitchen were connected, and there was a short corridor where the bathroom and bedroom was. There was also a storage cupboard at the end of the corridor, too, but the only thing it held was spare sheets and a blow-up mattress if she had guests staying over - which was only ever Sam, but he ended up sleeping in her bed or couch anyway.

Al appeared wearing only a tank top and a pair of underwear, hair looking dishevelled and eyes drooping from only just waking. "What the fuck?" she muttered when she caught sight of her friend, wide-awake with a spatula in his hand.

"It's nearly noon, babe," Sam informed her. "I'm cooking you breakfast." He shrugged. "Well, lunch."

"I thought I was getting robbed," she murmured.

"So you walk out weaponless and nearly naked?" he asked, pointing the spatula at her lack of attire and cocking an eyebrow. "You know, Clint almost came around. Imagine what Hawkeye would say if he saw you like this."

"I'm sure he'd be very appreciative seeing an attractive woman in her underwear," she said, smiling sleepily and tilting her head at him. It was a cute expression. "Like you should be, Sammy."

"Not in high school anymore, Al," Sam chuckled, turning back to his cooking. There were zero secrets between him and Al, so she knew that he had a huge crush on her during his hormonal teenage years. Having an attractive best friend of the female variety would do that to any guy in high school. Sam always tried to downplay it and say it was brief, but they both knew that it was there for years and it was pretty strong. Started when they became close in high school and it ended when they joined the army when Sam found himself in multiple, uh... relationships. "And Clint would be very disappointed with you being up at this time."

"Emotional manipulation, using my favourite Avenger against me." He felt arms wrap around his waist and her forehead rest against the back of his neck. "But thanks for cooking for me, asshole."

"You know, calling me names while giving me a compliment kind of counteracts the compliment," Sam said.

He felt her breath fan over his neck in a laugh. "Gotta keep 'em on their toes." She removed her arms from him and pinched his ass, making him jump and let out a girlish yelp. "See?"

"Go brush your fucking teeth." Sam laughed and shook his head, rubbing where she pinched him. He heard the pitter-patter of bare feet against tiled floor as she went into the bathroom.

Sam turned off the stove when the bacon turned a crisp brown colour and loaded it onto a plastic plate - yes, she had plastic plates - dripping as much of the olive oil off as possible. It was greasy and pretty disgusting looking, but Al loved it nonetheless.

He set the plate on her living room table and sat on her couch which he gifted her when she first moved in. It was the comfiest thing he ever laid his ass on, even including the sofas Tony had in The Tower.

Al returned looking more presentable than before. She was still wearing no pants - ' _pants were made by Satan, Sam, don't argue with me on this'_  - but her hair was no longer an absolute disaster; she tied it up in a bun, but stray hairs were sticking out from every direction, making her look a bit like Doc from Back to the Future.

"You are my god," she practically groaned, scoffing down her food as soon as she sat down.

"I hear that a lot." Sam waved his hand around, propping his feet on her coffee table. "So, wanna tell me why you only just woke up?"

"It's been a weird week," she mumbled around a mouth full of bacon. "I quit my job- oh, I got that job by the way. The one at the high school. They called last night and I'm starting on Monday."

"Look at you, Miss Gunley," Sam grinned, nudging her knee with the toe of his foot.

"I'm a counsellor so they can just call me by my first name, thank god," she said, relieved. "The hours are pretty hectic since I have to stay after school closed, and I have to be a tutor for a 20-kid class which is going to be great fun, I can already tell."

"At least you can't be fired for being gay in New York," Sam pointed out, watching as she threw her now-empty plate on the table without shifting in her seat. "You're good with kids, anyway."

" _Pfft_ ," Al snorted, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling. "I'm good with the kids who aren't little shits."

They talked for another few minutes about work, Sam telling her that Steve and co have been searching for Bucky Barnes since Manhattan - which is technically classified information but Al knew literally everything about Avengers business. Steve would have a stroke if he knew how much Alaina knew.

When Sam casually brought up the gala that was happening several hours from now, Al froze.

"Oh, yeah, uh, about that," Al muttered sheepishly. "I can't go. I'd really love to, but I have nothing to wear and I start work on Monday, you know, I gotta get up at 6, so- No, Sammy. What are you doing?" He stood up before she even finished her sentence, dodging her attempt to stop him from going into her room. "Sam, no," she rushed in after him, "I seriously don't have any clothes! Sam, I have a thousand sex toys in there, yes, including butt plugs  _and_  anal beads- do not go in there or I swear-"

"You're a terrible liar, Alaina Gunley." Sam shook his head, disappointed. Her wardrobe was more full than anything else in the goddamn apartment. "Honestly terrible."

* * *

After twenty minutes, Al stopped arguing. Twenty minutes of her protesting, trying to kick him out of her apartment, and at one point straight up yelling when he suggested she needed a social life.

After a quiet _'fuck you'_ , she actually let him go through her clothes. She had a dozen ties, three suits - one black, one navy blue, the other black and white pinstripe - and one dress that her dad gifted her for her birthday last year. The closet was mostly full of tank tops, literally half of the space was taken up by tank tops - yes, she was one of those gays. When Sam pointed it out, Al argued that it made her arms look, in her own words,  _bomb as fuck_.

"You can't... Sam, in what world is matching a blue suit with a swamp green tie a  _good idea?!_ " Al asked, exasperated. She was laying on her twin bed, rubbing her hands over her eyes vigorously. "You know nothing about clothes, oh my,  _god_. What happened to all the fashion advice I've ever given you? ever"

Sam lit up, dropping the odd suit/tie pairing on the ground. "I'll call Clint!" He scrambled for his phone.

"What?" Al shot up. "No, Sam, first of all, I know how to fashion. Second of all-"

"Clint can do a makeover for you," he said, not even glancing up from his phone.

"I'm not having a Princess Diaries Anne Hathaway moment," Al argued, groaning when Sam held the phone up to his ear. "Why me?"

"So, Al needs help picking an outfit for tonight... Uh-huh, yeah, she has clothes... No, she won't accept money."

"Damn straight," she whispered, hiding her face in the crook of her elbow.

"Maybe bring a pair of dress shoes, size 7... The day she wears a dress is the day she turns straight, Barton." Al couldn't stop the laugh that slipped out of her. "Yeah, bring some makeup, too. She only has one lipstick to her name. And it's black... Yes, Clint, black lipstick." Sam gave the archer her address and apartment number, though she doubted that he didn't already know, and hung up.

"See? That easy, Al." Sam had a dumb smirk plastered on his dumb face.

"Fuck yourself." She promptly flipped him off.

* * *

_**Natasha** _

Natasha wasn't sure why she agreed to this.

She had picked out her outfit for the gala and just got started on her hair when Clint barged into her room, a duffel bag thrown over his shoulder and a wide smile on his face. He announced that he was going to Alaina's apartment to prepare her for what would definitely be a hectic night, and not-so-subtly proposing that she should join him and get ready there, too. Natasha rolled her eyes but complied nonetheless, packing her own bag of makeup, supplies for her hair, and her outfit and shoes. A small purse, too, where she would store her gun.

The team implying that Natasha should start something with Alaina didn't go over her head; they wouldn't know how to be low-key even if it punched them in the gut. It was more Tony, Clint and, of course, Sam that kept bringing it up. Steve was being mature about it like he was with everything, saying that she shouldn't feel pressured to do something she didn't want to do, and Bruce quietly told her that she should go for it, and he would be happy seeing her happy.

It was times like these that she missed having her girl talks with Pepper and Wanda. Hell, even Jane and Darcy.

Wanda and Vision have been on a holiday in Colombia for over two weeks now - courtesy of Stark, of course - but they would be back in time for the gala tonight. Pepper moved out of the Tower a few months ago after breaking it off with Tony and now resides in Malibu, although she told Natasha that it wouldn't be permanent. She did love the arrogant asshole, after all.

Jane dumped Thor after the wholenearly-dying thing, but this break-up was official (she started dating someone else not too long after and was currently engaged). Thor was obviously upset by the news and moped around the realm for a while, but he eventually came to terms with it and stated that he was happy for her. He switches between Asgard and Earth frequently, but he spends more time on his home planet. He would be going to the gala, too.

Natasha wondered how Alaina would react to meeting the Norse God. It looked like she had a small mental breakdown meeting Natasha and Clint - two simple assassins with no powers - so it would probably be like that, but amplified. Thor was like a Disney Prince but clumsier. And he liked pop-tarts. And cooking. Even if it wasn't that good, but no one dared mention it.

Because of her minor attraction to Sam's childhood friend, she found herself standing in a small apartment with Clint on her left, who was still smiling like a dork, and Alaina and Sam in front of them. The woman looked startled like she hadn't been expecting to see Natasha. Not in a rude way, though. Natasha doubted Clint even told her, the bastard. Sam had the same expression his face.

Good lord, what did she get herself into?


	6. Mysterious Man

**_Alaina_**

Despite what many believed, Alaina wasn't a violent person. Sure, she threatened people a lot, got a bit handsy if she needed to, but she was never one to start a fight, even if it was perfectly justified.

But at that moment, when she saw Natasha Romanoff standing in front of her looking as gorgeous as ever, she knew she could murder Sam on the spot. Maybe even Clint.

Hell, she could probably kill herself to save herself the embarrassment.

Obviously, she wouldn't do that, but that's not the point.

The point was...

Actually, she didn't know.

She's having a gay panic attack and that's all that matters.

Natasha was just...  _ugh_. Beautiful. Stunning. Literally, everything that has a positive connotation could be used to describe her. If this was Game of Thrones, every King would start wars over her but Natasha would just laugh and crush their necks with her thighs and become the Queen instead.

Don't think about her thighs, Alaina, and stop linking her to Game of Thrones to justify your crush.

Okay, so maybe Sam was kind of right about her crush.

"So," Sam clapped his hands together loudly, scaring the shit out of Al, "let's pick out this outfit, eh?" He gave her a knowing look, winking when she pursed her lips, unamused.

"Let's see what you've got," the red-head hummed, her eyes raking approvingly over Alaina's body. Al changed into a pair of leggings and a clean tank top which was a tad too tight for her, but throwing a sports bra underneath it made her look cooler. She thought that wearing her underwear in front of three Avengers would seem... Wait, did Natasha just check her out?

Al was sat down on the end of her bed with Natasha next to her - she tried not to think about the first night they met when they were sat pressed against one another, even though now inches separated them - while Sam leaned back against the wardrobe. He watched Clint who was crouching on the floor, surveying the outfits in front of him with a thoughtful look on his face. He was taking this way too seriously.

"This," Clint stood up with the black suit in his hand, "with a red dress shirt and Christian Louboutin dress shoes is  _mwah_ ," he kissed the tips of his fingers, "perfect." He shoved the suit in Al's clammy hands and rummaged through his duffel bag. "If you don't wear this, I will. Well, it wouldn't fit - actually, it could fit..." he trailed off, mumbling under his breath about how nice the suit was. Weird.

"He takes his fashion very seriously," Natasha leaned over to whisper in Al's ear. "It's best not to argue with him." She  _had_ to know what was doing to her, right? It's like Al developed some kind of whispering kink since she met Natasha.

"Here we go!" Clint exclaimed. He handed Al the items he listed off; a pair of very expensive-looking shoes and an equally expensive-looking red shirt. "Size 7 shoes and a medium shirt should fit, right?" He didn't even give the woman a chance to reply. "I'm thinking a subtle eye and a nude lip. Do you think a red lipstick matching the shirt would be too much, Nat?"

Natasha studied Alaina's face for a moment, her eyes lingering on her lips as if debating which would look better. Al felt her breath hitch in her throat.

"Red would be nice," Natasha said, the corner of her lip fluttering upwards as if she was holding back some kind of smile.

Al had to clear her throat to stop herself from saying something dumb, like _'I think I'm in love with you'_. "Isn't the suit going to be... I don't know, too much?"

"It's never too much, dear, if you have the confidence to pull it off." Clint flicked her nose, making it scrunch up. "And go big or go home, right? Why catch one person's attention when you can get everyone's?"

Al didn't let herself figure out if there was a double meaning behind that last sentence, instead awkwardly scratching at her fingers. "Well, I mean, it's a charity event, right? Not just a gala, so... I'd be the only woman wearing a suit, right?"

Sam couldn't help but let out a snort of laughter. "Sorry," he apologised at the expression on her and Clint's face. Natasha looked bemused and was staring at Al in what could be described as fondness. "I just didn't realise that was still a fear?"

"It's not a fear, Sam. It's a justified paranoia."

"Wait, I'm lost. Why are you scared of wearing a suit?" Clint asked, genuinely curious.

"I, uh," she sighed, rubbing her thumb against her palm. A nervous tick. "I wore a suit to homecoming. I thought it looked good, my old man thought it looked good, Sam thought it looked good, but... well, not everyone was very accepting of a girl dressing up vaguely masculine back then, especially where we lived. It was one of the best nights of my life, but..." she chuckled. "Well, my nickname throughout the rest of high school was fag or dyke, the occasional tranny when I cut my hair short, even though I'm not. The teachers saw it every day but did any of them stop it? Nope." Al shook her head. "God, the number of fights I got into. But it's really not a fear, just... more of a precaution."

Alaina felt fingers gently wrap around her forearm, effectively stopping her rubbing her palm. She didn't look up at Natasha but she did nearly melt when her thumb started to rub over her wrist. "I remember the media pitching a fit when they found out I was gay. I remember them pitching an even bigger fit when Tony came out as bi."

"I remember that," Al said quietly. "He flipped off the reporter who asked him if he bottomed."

"Pepper went crazy," Natasha recalled, squeezing her arm reassuringly. "I can assure you that the people there who are homophobic won't say jack, because they know they'd immediately be kicked out. If not by us first," she nodded in Clint and Sam's direction, "then by Tony. And it be very bad publicity for them if they get kicked out by Tony Stark."

"Would it be bad publicity for me if I decked someone?" Al muttered half-jokingly.

Natasha laughed. It was such a pretty sound and her smile was just... wow. Her eyes crinkled around the edges slightly. "I'm sure Pepper would fix it." Natasha patted her arm before letting go, and Alaina couldn't help but notice that her skin felt cold.

Al gave her a timid smile in return and risked a glance in Sam's direction.

He and Clint had similar expressions on their faces; beaming from ear to ear as if they just solved all of the world's problems. Al flushed and shook her head silently at Sam, begging him  _not_  to be a dick.

"That was,  _aw_ ," Clint clapped his hands together. "This is the cutest shit I've ever seen."

Turns out Clint Barton decided to be that dick. It registered with Al that what Sam was to her, was what Clint was to Natasha. She didn't know much about how they met - Sam mentioned something about Natasha being the enemy to S.H.I.E.L.D. to begin with - but she knew that they were partners. Well, they used to be before they became part of a team.

"I can't disagree- wait, did you just use the Snoop Dogg meme?" Sam asked, slapping his teammate on the arm. "That's cheating!"

"I don't even wanna know," Natasha muttered.

Al nodded in agreement.

* * *

Natasha and Clint decided to stay at her apartment to get ready, which surprised Alaina. They had an entire floor each in the Tower and a bathroom that would be worth a full lifetime of rent for her, but when Alaina said that they only had a few hours left before the gala, Clint stated that he was going to do her makeup. Natasha was sat at Al's small desk with her own makeup bag set out in front of her while Clint got out an array of makeup that was perfectly suited for Al's skin - she decided not to question it. Like how she decided not to question why Clint had a size 7 shoe in his possession when he was a size 9.

Sam was laying on the bed next to where Al was seated, his head resting by her leg. He kept poking her as he watched Clint work.

"What got you into makeup?" Al asked the man seated in front of her, moving her mouth as little as possible. He put on a light layer of foundation, some powder and a cut-crease eye with a champagne glitter colour being the cut (she only had a brief idea what that meant). He was now putting on a dark red lipstick that matched her dress shirt.

"I used to work in a circus," Clint replied quietly as to concentrate, "before S.H.I.E.L.D. The girls taught me how to do my makeup and eventually, I got better." He applied the lipstick, Tom Ford Al thought it was, to her bottom lip. "They'd always ask me to do their makeup for them so I just... I guess I got enough practise. Became good at it."

"It looks good," Sam commented, grinning up at Al. "I don't think I've seen you wear this much makeup in, well... forever. Not even on dates."

"That's because I've been approximately three dates in my life, and all of them were terrible," Al said as Clint went over the finishing touches. "Oh, and  _you_ were the one who set me up on every single one. What a coincidence."

Sam held his hands up in surrender, almost knocking Clint's elbow as he did so. "Some of them were Riley, too!" he defended himself.

"Do I even wanna ask?" Natasha asked, looking at the trio through the mirror. She was working on her lips, too. A red that matched Alaina's.

"Well," Al started, listing each nightmare on her fingers, "there was the guy who talked about his bowel movements for a full hour and then cried on me when we left the restaurant. The girl who ditched me through a bathroom meal when I offered to pay the $200 bill, and another girl who was, um," Al cleared her throat, looking pointedly at Sam, "looking for clients." At Clint's expression, she added, "She was a dominatrix. But hey, at least she split the bill."

Clint and Natasha laughed, the former lightly scolding Sam for his terrible matchmaking.

Al had to stop herself from wondering what Natasha would be like on a date.

* * *

After throwing on her suit and helping Sam adjust his tie, Alaina was as ready as she could be for the gala. The suit's pants were an inch too short for her stupidly long legs so she cuffed them; Clint said that it made her look more stylish which only slightly boosted her confidence. The shoes fit like a glove - or a shoe? - and it felt like the shirt was made specifically for her. It had a band collar that Clint somehow convinced Al to keep unbuttoned, just enough to show her chest without it being, well, as Sam kindly put it,  _slutty_. The black of the suit and shoes contrasted the red of the shirt perfectly, and it looked pretty good. She was still nervous about the attention, though.

Natasha, however, was... damn. Was it even a surprise that she looked so good? Did she ever  _not_ look like she stepped out of a photoshoot? It was honestly ridiculous.

She was wearing a figure hugging dress that embarrassingly matched the colour of Al's suit - she realised now why Clint seemed eager for her to wear it - and the collar was wide, going from shoulder to shoulder so Alaina could see the freckles scattered across her skin.

"You okay?" Sam asked her quietly as they approached the gala. Tony sent a limousine to pick them up from Al's apartment, which stood out against the shabby area and breaking buildings. She was sure they were going to get mugged.

"I'm about ten seconds from either shitting myself or crying," Al whispered, leaning against the side of the building. Clint and Natasha had already entered the building, saying that were going to find Wanda and Vision before the event actually began, leaving Sam, Al and a few others being the only ones outside. It was 6:40, so they had another 20 minutes left before more guests arrived. "You can go on inside, Sammy. Gonna have a light." She pulled a half-empty pack of Virginia Slims out of her purse and opened it.

Sam didn't hide his disappointment. "You're still smoking?" he asked.

"Yes, Sam, I'm still smoking," she stated, pulling out a cig. "Are you gonna turn into my mom and tell me what to do?"

"If that includes telling you that you'll die at an early age, then yeah, I'll be your mom," Sam argued.

"It's one smoke," Al snapped. "I haven't had one in weeks and tonight I'm particularly stressed because your friend cancelled our original plans which I was actually looking forward to." She shook her head. "But don't worry, I'll drink my heart out as soon as I put this out. Slowly kill my liver as well as my lungs." 

"Fine," Sam muttered. "I'll be at the bar. Find me... Just find me whenever, alright?"

Al nodded, pulling out a zippo lighter. She heard Sam's footsteps descend, leaving her with the cool autumn air and the noises of chatter surrounding her. Her fingers shook as she lit up the cigarette, inhaling deeply.

God, it still tastes like shit.

Al started smoking after leaving the army several years ago. After Riley died. It was hard on her and Sam, but Sam wanted to go out and help people, soldiers with PTSD, and Alaina spent all of her time in her apartment if she wasn't at work. They lived together for a few years before Sam found his own place, a beautiful house in Uptown New York. He offered for her to move in but Al refused, knowing that he wanted to live alone for once. Throughout college, the army, and post-army, they were always together. It stung thinking that Sam was more than capable without her. She always did his laundry, after all.

"Deep in thought?" a too-smooth voice spoke.

Al didn't even twitch at the unexpected voice, instead glanced up to see a man stood in front of her. He was handsome with unkempt blonde hair, gleaming blue eyes and some darker stubble lining his chin.

He looked vaguely familiar.

"Something like that," Al muttered, flicking the end of her smoke to get rid of the excess ash. "Not a big fan of..." she gestured around herself loosely, trying to find the right words, "fancy events. Not that I've been to many." She took another drag, realising dully that the cigarette was only an inch long now. Cheap cigarettes were the worst.

The stranger chuckled, leaning against the wall next to her. "I assume you're here with a friend, then?" he wondered. "The man that just went inside?"

"Yeah." She dropped the stub on the concrete ground and stepped on it, effectively putting it out. "Speaking of, I should get going before he thinks I bailed on him." She patted the man, probably a bit too casually, on his shoulder, as she moved past him. "Thanks for the delightful conversation, though."

Al got a weird vibe from him that she couldn't quite explain. Maybe he was just trying to make a move on her?

But still, she recognised that face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of background on Al's high school days, Riley was mentioned which will come back later, Tony is bi, and just who is this mysterious man? I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	7. Try Me

**_Alaina_ **

She found Sam by the bar fairly quickly due to the emptiness of the space. It was essentially a large ballroom, with circular tables lined perfectly in the centre, a stage at the back and a floor which was presumably meant for dancing. The only thing Alaina had eyes for was the bar, however. It took up a whole side of the room, similar to Stark's but surprisingly much bigger.

There were little to no people in the area, just bartenders and men in suits who were discussing something with Tony by the stage, besides the faces that she already recognised. Security, maybe? Though the Avengers probably wouldn't need security, especially if Tony did in fact have Jarvis with him at all times. Hell, she'd feel safer with just Natasha Romanoff than a dozen men in suits.

Nope. Don't think about Natasha right now.

Don't think about her thighs.

Or how perfect she is.

Sam was seated on one of the stools with a few others surrounding him; Natasha, Clint, and two people whom she hadn't met yet.

Thankful that the cigarette ceased her shaking, Alaina approached them with confidence, sending Sam a nod and a side smirk when he saluted her.

"Hey, stranger," Sam nodded when she took her place stood by his side, giving her a once-over. "Anyone give you any trouble?" His arm instinctively wrapped around her waist.

"Nothing I can't handle," Al teased, nudging him slightly before turning her sights to the two strangers. "Hey there, I'm Alaina but you can call me Al." She gave them a small two-finger wave.

"Wanda," the woman greeted with a slight accent, nodding her head in her direction. The cool magic girl. She rubbed her drink-free hand over the man's arm. "This is my husband, Vision."

"You must be Alaina Gunley that Sam and the team have been talking about, yes?" Vision asked. He looked... well, human. Al was expecting him to look more like an android like Sam had described to her but he just looked like an ordinary guy. "I have manipulated my true form to make me look more human, so I am not followed everywhere I go," he explained, answering her unasked question.

"You, uh," Al looked at Sam who was smirking behind his glass, and then Wanda who shook her head at her husband. "You read minds, I guess?"

At Wanda's look, Vision flushed brightly. "I, uh, my apologies, Miss Gunley," he stammered. "Wanda has told me many times that I shouldn't do that. I apologise."

"No worries," Al waved it off. "But I've heard great things about the both of you. You're married now?"

Vision seemed to light up at the mention of their marriage, and he quickly delved into their wedding. From the venue itself to the details of Wanda's dress and how beautiful she looked. Alaina was grinning ear-to-ear the entire time, her heart swelling with happiness when they looked at each other with loving eyes.

Her eyes flickered to Natasha - hey, it wasn’t her fault, okay? She was stood, like right next to the person talking and she was basically a beacon in that dress that made her look absolutely perfect. Al was surprised to see the woman looking back at her with bright green eyes, a smile tugging on her lips. The smile widened for a brief moment before Natasha darted her eyes coyly down to her drink, realising she'd been caught.

Okay, just put yourself in the mindset of a straight girl and everything should be-  _oh god_ , Natasha just crossed her legs, revealing an extra inch of bare thigh and a _fucking garter belt_ -

Nope. Think about Captain America's biceps. Or his abs. Or his massive pectorals.

_What if his body was just an... abyss under his shirt?_

What the hell does that even mean?

"You with us, babe?" Sam snapped his fingers in front of her face, startling her from her thoughts. She realised she was just... staring at Natasha's leg. God, this was embarrassing.Just be smooth, Alaina, just be smooth...

"Captain America," Al blurted. "Where is Captain Amer- Steve? Where's," she cleared her throat, "Steve? I haven't seen him."

Sam gave her a strange look but decided not to comment on it. Clint looked like he was on the verge of bursting out laughing, and Natasha - well, she couldn't even bring herself to look at Natasha. Wait, Vision could read minds, couldn't he?

"He's out back waiting for Thor," Sam told her. "Something about a portal from Asgard."

"You mean- Thor's gonna be here?"

"Yeah, the second strongest Avenger is coming here," Sam said.

Natasha frowned, cocking her head to the side. "The strongest being...?"

"Me," Clint and Sam said simultaneously, staring at each other with mild disgust when they realised they spoke at the same time.

"Statistically," Vision started. "The strongest Avenger would be-"

"Wanda," Alaina finished, almost too confidently. She flushed. "Um..."

"Correct," Vision smiled. Wanda chuckled in her glass.

Clint and Sam immediately started arguing about who was stronger between the two of them as Alaina conversed with the two mind-readers.

It hadn't even been ten minutes into the conversation - Sam and Clint were still arguing like children, Steve and Thor had not yet arrived, and guests were slowly filling the room - when Alaina caught sight of Tony Stark talking to a man. But it didn't look like Tony. He had that media smile on his face, something which Alaina noticed when she first met him. She was expecting an arrogant asshole who was the definition of cocky, but instead, she got a different man. Someone genuine who clearly cared for his team, who always had a smile on his face and he helped out Alaina, the woman he only met once before. But right now, the smile in his eyes, the genuine part of a smile, vanished. The corners of his lips were strained and his eyes held nothing.

"Gonna talk to Stark real quick," she quietly excused herself, slipping out of Sam's grip to move.

Photographers were constantly taking pictures which was new and uncomfortable for Al, especially since she was hanging out with most of the Avengers, but she quickly grew used to the flashing lights. Her hands were shake-free which was a huge relief, but it didn't ease her discomfort. Classical music played in the background, but the sound of chatter overlapped the noise.

"Is there a problem here?" she asked, stepping next to Tony on the dance floor where a few others were mingling. It was times like this she could be thankful for her height. She was roughly the same as Tony, maybe an centimetre taller, and definitely had a height advantage on the man who was causing him clear discomfort. The billionaire instantly relaxed when she stepped next to him, her arms crossed over her chest like a bouncer.

The blonde turned around and recognition hit Al in the face like a sack of cats. It was the man she was talking to outside but this time she put a name to the face due to the well-lit room.

Tiberius Stone. Tony's ex and business rival. Back when they were dating, which started after Tony revealed himself as Iron Man and ended after Captain America was found in the ice, rumours surfaced that Stone was abusive towards Tony, which of course was quickly swept under the rug. But she knew Sam, and Sam knew Tony, so Al had an idea of what happened.

Remember earlier when Al said she wasn't a violent person?

Yeah, now she wasn’t so sure of herself.

Stone's eyes brightened as he looked at the woman in front of them, but it was an ugly gleam. Uglier and less charming now that she knew his face. "Ah, and here I thought I wouldn't see you again."

"Hm." Alaina smiled falsely, it was too bright for her face and it didn't reach her eyes like it did when she was talking to Sam. To her friends. "I apologise for not recognising you earlier, but it seems I've finally put a name to your face. Tiberius Stone, correct? You’re the head of Viastone." She could see Tony openly staring at her from the corner of her eye. He could sense her coldness.

He held out a hand for her to shake. "That I am, and you are...?" he trailed off.

She didn't even glance down at the outstretched limb. "Mr. Stark's friend," Al stated, her smile turning bitter as she took a small step closer to the man. He slowly lowered his hand, expression dropping. "And as Mr. Stark's friend, I'm going to recommend that you turn around and walk away."

"Alaina," Tony muttered in warning.

Stone only chuckled, his eyes misting with mirth. "Did you just threaten me?" he asked, squaring up like a gorilla being tested. "I didn't realise you were hiring more people to make threats towards me, Tony."

"She doesn't mean it, Ty," Tony defended, grabbing onto Al's arm and attempting to pull her away. "C'mon, just drop it."

"I know exactly who you are, Miss Gunley," Stone ignored Tony's words, meeting Al's steady gaze with his own temper. "A Sargent, and then a captain in the special forces, the best in your division. Your partner was Riley Harper before, well, you know what happened," Alaina felt a spike of anger rush up her spine at the mention of his name and the way he laughed, like it was a joke. "I can destroy you, just like  _that_ ," he snapped his fingers. "Call your superiors, make sure you never get a job again. If I were you, I'd turn around. Right now."

"Ty..."

"No, no, come on, big guy," she interrupted Tony, "keep puffing up your chest, make some more empty threats..."

" _Empty_  threats?" Stone echoed, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yes," Al stated with a smile on her face. "I've met rich men like you who think they can get anything they want. You're just a limp-dicked prick who needs a bottle of Viagra to get through 5 minutes of--"

Stone suddenly grabbed Alaina by the arm, pulling her in roughly so his mouth was next to her ear, his whiskey-laced breath puffing against her skin. She heard protesting from Tony, him trying to step between them before he disappeared. She couldn't see him from that angle, but she assumed he went to get help. "Do not. Test. Me."

"See that?" she whispered, glancing to her left to see the flashes of cameras nearly blind her. "A man of your stature getting rough with a woman for rejecting him? "That would make quite the scandal, wouldn't it? I can see the headlines now -  _Tiberius Stone Gets Violent With Woman Who Said No_. I think that would be quite the craze for a while, especially since you're, you know..."

And then he was suddenly pulled away.

"What the fuck is going on here?!" Sam looked downright  _furious_ , staring at Stone with a look in his eye that Al hadn't seen for years. "What did you do to her, you son of a--"

"Sammy," Al gently cut him off, suddenly feeling flustered when she saw The Avengers crowding around her. "It's fine--"

"Like _hell_ \--"

"Sam!" Al said a bit sharper, tugging insistently on his arm. His eyes snapped to hers. "We'll talk outside, okay?"

"Best to go on the roof," Tony interjected, leading them through the gathering crowd. "Cameras'll just follow us out."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is basically Al in two words which is why I love it so much, she's a cinnamon roll who will kill you. And her defending Tony like that, ooooo, I just solidified a FRIENDSHIP! And Rhodey is gonna be in the next chapter, so he will obviously get along with Al really well, especially since she called Stone a limp-dicked prick (one of my favourite insults).
> 
> Do I spoil too much of my story in the author's note? Probably.
> 
> Thanks for the lovely comments, as always!


	8. Guilt

**_Natasha_ **

The assassin still wasn't sure what happened; one minute she was catching up with Wanda - while checking out Alaina because she had taken off her blazer and rolled the red sleeves of her shirt up to her elbows, and damn she looked good - the next minute Alaina said she was going to talk to Tony, and the next Tony came running towards them, speaking incoherently. She only heard the words  _Stone_ ,  _threaten_  and  _Al_ , and she already knew that shit went sideways. Tiberius Stone had his grubby little hand wrapped around Alaina's arm by the time the small group reached them and was whispering something in her ear, but she replied with something that made the man freeze. She even had a self-satisfied smirk on her face, which was an unusual expression to see on the usually nervous woman.

As there was no super-soldier or Norse God to throw Stone through the wall, Natasha was the one who pulled him off Alaina. She had to lightly push Sam in Alaina's direction so he didn't punch Stone and escalate the situation - because boy, did he look pissed. Alaina had thankfully calmed him down with a few soft-spoken words and a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Natasha, Alaina, Sam and Clint were practically pushed to the roof by Tony, who ordered the security guards not to let anyone up unless it was one of the team, while Wanda and Vision calmed down the media. They were surprisingly good at diffusing the situation, letting their charming, albeit slightly awkward, natures shine through.

Steve joined them after sitting in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds being Sam's fussing over Alaina and Alaina whispering for him to fuck off - which Natasha had to smile at - and Tony on the phone with Pepper. Pepper was always the best one to call when it came to what the media published. With just the snap of her fingers, she could stop photos being spread into any outlet imaginable.

The roof was just as fancy as the inside of the building. A large expanse of space with railings lining the edges and tables and chairs scattered throughout. There were a few people up there, but they quickly scrammed when Tony snapped for them to get out.

Alaina was sat at a table with Sam, her foot propped up on his seat next to his thigh while she tapped her fingers against her knee, staring at the movement intently. Her hands were trembling slightly, something which Natasha noticed happened a lot, especially when she was nervous. Sam had his hands resting on her calf, his thumb rubbing gently over her trouser leg. They had a very intimate friendship, she noticed. Always having some form of contact, even if it's as little as touching one's shoulder.

Clint was sat with his back against the railing, flicking small pieces of rock on the cement below him while Natasha leaned against one of the tables, arms crossed over her stomach. Tony was pacing the length of the roof, talking animatedly on the phone with his hands waving around randomly.

Steve... Well, Steve had his  _Captain America_  face on. The space between his eyebrows was creased and he had his hands on his hips, lip twitching whenever he glanced over to Alaina, which meant she was going to get a lecture. When Tony got his first lecture from Steve for calling Fury a dick, he just burst out laughing and patted the man on the shoulder, not taking it seriously, while Clint looked genuinely guilty for stealing the remainders of Thor's pop-tarts. Every member of the team got at least one lecture in their time at the Tower, all except Wanda because he had a huge soft spot for her, and all reacted differently to Steve being serious. Natasha wondered how Alaina would react.

"Well," Tony started after putting his phone back in his suit pocket, "good news is that Pepper is about to make some calls and delete the photos."

Alaina chewed the corner of her lip, bouncing her knee. "Any bad news?" she asked, her voice loud against the quiet air.

"Hm, let me think." Tony tapped his chin, looking thoughtful before he lit up dramatically, pointing his index finger to the sky. "Oh, right! Only the fact that Tiberius Stone is going to be pissed as hell that the woman who threatened him is associated with me. He'll only try to take down my company again, no biggie. Thanks for that."

"I'm really gonna getting scoldedright now?" Alaina asked, ceasing her tapping fingers and bouncing foot. Her eyebrows were drawn together and her lips twined in vexation. "Are you kidding me?"

"What. Happened?" Steve asked, his voice low. He was staring right at Alaina and Natasha felt a protective urge to defend her, even though she seemed perfectly capable of doing so herself. She had to remember that she was a military woman, not just Sam's friend.

"Tony looked uncomfortable so I went over to help," Alaina explained, trying to mask her annoyance. "I recognised who it was, so I kindly told him to back off." Clint looked impressed, muttering ' _damn_ ' under his breath which Steve glared at him for. Obviously unimpressed.

"Define kindly," Steve said.

"Well, I can look it up..."

"Gunley," Tony snapped. "You called him a limp-dicked prick. That's not kindly telling him to go away."

Clint snorted which received another look from Steve, as well as Tony. Natasha would have laughed if it wasn't serious, and by the looks of it, Sam wanted to as well.

"And him threatening to take away my ranks - something I've worked for years to get - and saying that I'll never get a job again, bringing up Riley's death is what?  _Nice?_ " Alaina argued. "Wait, actually," she laughed emptily, "best not to remind me that the little people don't matter. It’s always business with you, isn’t it?"

"Babe," Sam whispered, holding her leg with a bit more grip when it looked like she was ready to stand up.

"What are you implying?" Tony asked, disregarding Sam completely. "That I don't care?"

"No, Stark, I'm saying that your priorities are in the wrong order," Alaina barked, standing up suddenly. She startled pretty much everyone around her, though not Sam who probably saw this angrier side of Alaina often. He looked upset. It didn't feel right to Natasha seeing Alaina like this, with fire burning in her eyes instead of nerves. "What do you think would have happened if I left it, huh, Stark? I'm not naive, I read the news, I'm friends with Sam, I know people like Stone, I've fought people like him. I know what they want." Alaina didn't expand but she didn't have to, they all knew what she was insinuating. "But when I stand up for the man who helped my friend, who helped me, I get shit for it. No... badge of honour or whatever you feel like giving out, but an intervention." Alaina leaned her head back and rubbed her forehead, taking a visible breath to calm herself down. "You know it won't affect your company, you know he's not an idiot. He'll take me down instead so don't worry about your precious reputation. I'm sure it's safer than my fucking future."

It went stone silent after that, half the group in complete shock at the outburst. Sam had his head down, Tony looked guilty, Steve's expression softened ever so slightly, Clint looked like he was in absolute awe, and Natasha just, well... stared at her, like she always found herself doing. It wasn't just the anger that astonished Natasha, but it was the unexpected aptitude with the comments. Alaina had no idea what it was like living as the leader of a large company, but she knew that Stone wouldn't try to bring down Tony for her actions.

"You just got told," a new voice stated, amused. Colonel Rhodes was stood at the top of the stairwell, grinning like he just won the lottery. "And she's right, just so you know. Tiberius Stone is a limp-dicked prick."

"Rhodey?" Tony muttered in confusion while the rest of the team glanced between the life-long friends. "What...?"

"Yeah, yeah," Rhodey waved his hand around dismissively, "I came here to surprise you, but... well, it looks like the surprise was ruined by our non-erect business rival." He walked over to the standing Alaina, who was looking at the soldier with amazement filling her eyes. It was a stark contrast to the rant she just had. "Sergeant Gunley." He held out his hand.

"Colonel Rhodes," she greeted back, shaking his hand firmly. "It's an honour to meet you, sir."

"No need for the formalities," Rhodey informed her, letting go. "Anyone who claps back at Stone like that is immediately number one in my books. Just Rhodey will do."

"Oh Jesus," Tony rolled his eyes.

"Don't even get me started, Tones," Rhodey warned, serious. "We," he gestured between the two of them, "are talking about this later. And Gunley, I wouldn't worry about your future. Stone is a huge bag of dicks who's too scared of Tony to hurt his friends. Right now, we have guests waiting downstairs for the Avengers to come back. Thor can only show off his muscles for so long before they start getting bored."

"Bored?" Clint said. "That man is sculpted like a god. I could stare at him for hours."

"We know, straight guy." Natasha patted his arm reassuringly. "You can admire his arms all you want when we go down."

Mutters rose within the group as everyone started to get up, all but Alaina, Natasha noticed, sat back down.

"I'm gonna stay up here for a few minutes," she said to Sam, but loudly enough for the rest to hear. "Need some fresh air before I face the world again." Sam, of course, protested lightly, but gave up quickly and went with Clint. Tony and Rhodey went down too, not before Rhodey sent a small salute to Alaina which she returned with a quirk of her lips, and Natasha reluctantly followed after them.

**_Alaina_ **

Steve lingered after Natasha walked away -  _don't check out her ass, Al_  - clearly wanting to say something without knowing how to approach her. She almost wanted to say nothing and make it more awkward for the man, but she gave in after about twenty seconds.

"Has my beauty made you lose the ability to speak?" Al turned her head towards him, resting her chin on her shoulder.

"I, uh, no," Steve stammered before his eyes widened. "I mean, not that you're not a beautiful dame, but I- I didn't mean that- No, I mean that you  _are_  but... I'm... god." A stark contrast from the man who lectured her not too long again.

Al chuckled at the man flushing - she just made Captain America  _blush!_  - and kicked the chair which Sam had been occupying. "Sit," she said. "I'm about to become a counsellor so I need to practise talking to people about shit."

"Right." Steve returned the chuckle, sitting down while wringing his fingers. "I just... I don't know to..."

Al smiled. "You wanna ask about Riley, right?" she asked. "I'm guessing Sam told you. Or maybe Tony since he probably knows all my secrets."

"Yeah, he did, uh, Sam did," Steve said. His voice was careful like he was avoiding saying the wrong thing. "I... um... How do- How do you get over the guilt? Of... losing someone. Like that?"

She didn't have to ask to know that he was talking about Bucky Barnes, his 20th century best friend who fell from a train under Steve's watch. No doubt that even 70 years, the memory still nabbed at the back of his brain. Even though Barnes was still alive, out there somewhere, the guilt would never go away.

"You don't, really," Al stated honestly. "It's like... a never-ending cycle. One minute I say that it wasn't my fault, but the next it's just... It's all my fault, you know? I could have stopped it but I didn't because I wasn't strong enough- or if I did, then I'd be dead, instead. And then Riley would still be alive, probably married with a few kids. But me? Not married, no kids, I'm barely even making a living right now. Hell, I only have one friend who gives a single shit about me." She ran her teeth over her upper lip, staring blankly at the table. "But even with Sam, he would've- well, I'm not saying he doesn't love me, but he wouldn't have been alone if it was me. He would have had Riley anyway, not... me. He would have had a best friend still." She looked up at Steve, staring into his blue eyes. "It's not something you can control, Steve. The guilt, I mean. You don't get over it, either. The hole in your heart is always gonna be there."

The soldier bit his lip and broke the gaze, staring at his feet instead.

"I don't know what to tell you," Al continued, "I mean... The hole in your heart is always gonna be there. You learn to fill it but... it never really gets filled. But you can't let your mind drift to  _that_  moment you lost him." Al thought for a moment. "You know what, screw it," she muttered. Steve's head raised, his eyes glassy and confused. "I'm setting you a task. Yeah, like the shrink I am." She chuckled and Steve gave a hesitant smile, though it was more of a twitch of the lip. "Whenever you think about what happened that day, that exact moment... You think of the good times. Whatever fun you had together, you think of it and write it down. Don't have to show it to anyone but just as long as you have it there. It can be... God, well, me and Riley, if Sam wasn't around which was pretty rare, we would always go clothes shopping, no exception. If I ever think about him, that day he died... I just remember the time he accidentally flung a jockstrap at an old lady and got kicked out. I still cry but at least it's tears of happiness, you know? It's better than the pain."

Alaina couldn't tell if the tears lining Steve's eyes fell, but she could see the gratitude in his expression. "Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't mean for the end to get so deep, but ah well, it was a cute bonding moment. It probably feels like this is barely a Natasha x OFC fic because Al's been talking to everyone else more than our (arguably) favourite spider, but I want her to be considered part of the team first. It's always best to develop the relationships before getting into them. I want The Avengers to like Al for her character, not just because she's dating one of the team (which is a common trope in fanfictions).
> 
> Thanks for comments, gays (or straights, if any are reading this?).


	9. Instant Regret

**_Alaina_ **

Steve took a few minutes to pull himself back together and then he left with a muttered thank you that mixed in with an apology. Al nodded, listening to his footsteps as he faded away.

She was alone with the chilly air and the faint music drifting from inside of the building.

Was she wrong to stand up to Stone like that? Sure, Tony looked like he would have rather eaten his own foot than spend another minute with the man and the two certainly had a past that was less than ideal, whether the abuse was just an allegation or not. Even when Al and Stone spent only a minute together outside, she felt a sense of edge around him. And the fact that he knew her name, what she did in the army, about Riley... he knew what happened with Riley, he must have.

The way Stone looked at her when he said it, before she saw the anger in his eyes, put her off. It was like he knew everything that she did. It had to be a coincidence, right? After all, she was a Sargent in the army and joined the special forces, and the government was constantly keeping her under their watch. It was why she couldn't stray far, because it would put her and her family in danger. It would put Sam in danger. Her dad. Or maybe Stone just thought she was working under Tony?

It was just a coincidence, nothing more.

Al shook away the lingering thoughts, pushing herself off the chair. She left the rooftop and stepped down the empty staircase, down each floor until she finally reached the bottom. It was a good thing she wasn't wearing her heels otherwise she would probably collapse to the floor.

Or maybe chuck them at Stone?

There were two security men guarding the entrance to the staircase which surprised Alaina, but she didn't question it. Tony probably knew that she needed a few minutes.

Tiberius Stone was nowhere to be found so she assumed he left, not like she was complaining. She found the bar again and saw Sam sat with Clint, Natasha and Steve; Tony was presumably still trying to sort out the mess she had made, and she didn't know where Rhodey was. Probably with Tony, too.

"You good?" Natasha was the first to see her approach. She was leaning against the smooth surface of the bar, a hip cocked out and an elbow resting on the bar.

"Yeah," Al replied coolly with a tug of her lips. "I'm just ready to--"

"Ah, Samuel's friend!"

Alaina turned around at the boisterous voice, only seeing a blur of blonde hunk before she was being lifted off the ground, her arms trapped by her sides. Her instinctive response to the unexpected attack, thanks to her training in the army, was to kick wherever her foot could land. Unfortunately for the blonde hunk, her knee happened to be between his legs.

She was dropped immediately and had her arms raised, ready to fight the man, but when she saw who it was... oh, god. Like, literally  _oh God_.

"Oh, shit," Sam muttered wide-eyed, encapsulating Al's thoughts perfect. "Thor, you okay, man?"

"I am fine, Samuel," the Norse God wheezed, standing straight with a wince. "I believe Natasha reacted the same way when I first met her."

"Oh my fuck- I am so  _so_  sorry," Al said, mortified with herself.  _Stupid idiot._  "If I knew it was you, I would have- oh my god, are you okay?"

"I have been through much worse on the battlefield, do not fret. You just surprised me, is all," Thor smiled reassuringly. "You have a strong kick."

"Surprised she didn't break her knee against your nads," Clint murmured, which Natasha elbowed him for.

Sam stifled a laugh. "Of course the first time meeting a god you kick him in the balls, Al."

"Ah, yes!" Thor exclaimed, making Al jump out of her skin. He clapped her on the shoulder, a friendly gesture which she did not expect. For some reason, she thought he was going to do some Prince Charming shit, like kiss her on the hand or  _bow_. How ridiculous. "You must be the Lady Gunley that I have been hearing about from Samuel. It is an honour to meet another brave soldier like yourself!"

Al stared at him, mouth agape. Did... Did Thor, God of Thunder, just call her a  _brave soldier?_  After she kicked him in the dick? "I... Um..." Her voice came out as a squeak.

"Thor, you  _need_  to stop complimenting people the first time you meet them," Tony said, magically appearing at Al's side. "I think Barton is still blushing from that time you compared him to the God of Archery."

"Wha-  _No_ ," Clint protested.

"I have not seen Ullr in years," Thor smiled brightly. "I must pay him and Lady Sif a visit sometime soon."

"Jesus Christ," Tony shook his head, before clasping his hands together. "So, the speech is about to start. Best take your seats, put on your best smiles and nod along like you know what's happening!"

"C'mon, Sammy," Al laughed, dragging her friend along the path after Happy Hogan - Tony's very polite chauffeur - dropped them off outside her apartment. Sam giggled maniacally, stumbling into and away from Al even though she had her arm locked tightly around his and mumbling utter nonsense. He decided it would be a good idea to first challenge Steve to a drinking contest - guess who won? - and then he stated that he got to keep Mjolnir if Thor couldn't keep up with his drinking. Sam didn't have the magical hammer, so guess who won again?

Natasha had the same situation with Clint, who then challenged Sam to the third drinking contest of the night, and despite the amount that Sam had consumed, Clint lost horribly. He was hammered, tried flirting with Thor - Al didn't even want to think about - and then married Natasha and Alaina with a eulogy. Yes, a eulogy he once used at a funeral.

Al had to physically put her hand over Sam's mouth to stop him from being too loud and waking the neighbours, but other than him lightly slapping her face and trying to crawl up the stairs like a dog, they made it to her apartment with few issues. She dragged him to her room and sat him down on the edge of the bed, which she thankfully made before leaving for the gala, and he fumbled with taking off his blazer. Al knelt in front of him and did it instead, throwing the jacket on her desk chair.

When Sam blew on his face, she flicked him between the eyebrows. His eyes crossed, trying to look at where the finger just hit him. "God, you haven't been this bad for a while."

"I-  _nngnnhnnnn_ ," Sam giggled again, slapping Al's hands away when she tried unbuttoning his shirt. "Take me on... a  _date_  first."

"I'm not hitting on you, Sam," Al told him, shoving his hands under his thighs so he would stop flinging his arms around. "Don't move them," she ordered. "I'm going to help you undress because buttons right now are your worst enemy, and then send you to sleep. Does that sound good?"

" _Siryessir_ ," he slurred, grinning sleepily. He was swaying from side to side, eyes hooded from tiredness. Al shook her head but smiled despite herself, deftly unbuttoning her friend's shirt until it was hanging off his shoulders.

Her smile faltered when she saw the many scars on Sam's torso. She knew how he got every single one but it still hurt seeing them, especially the jagged ones that were deeper and scarred worse than the others. The gunshot wounds that Al mostly tended to herself, since Sam hated the army medics.

But not all of them were from the war.

A longer scar rested above Sam's left pectoral muscle, close to his collarbone. Whenever she caught a glimpse of that scar, she remembered the rage she felt towards Captain America for dragging Sam into his battle. She remembered seeing Sam lying in his hospital bed after having surgery to take out the shards of glass that nearly lodged in his heart when the Winter Soldier yanked off his wing. The same day she told off Nick Fury.

And now she was friends with Steve Rogers. Weird how that works.

"Are ye looking at  _mmm_... my firm pecs?"

"No, Sam. I'm not looking at your firm pecs," Al laughed. She removed Sam's hands from the bottom of his legs which he, thank god, complied with since he was a dumb and happy drunk, and then removed his shirt completely, putting it over the blazer on the chair. For a second, she debated whether she should take off his pants for him but decided that it would too weird when he was this intoxicated. They were close for sure, but not to the point that she would put her hands anywhere near  _that_  area. "You can sleep in your pants, big guy." She lightly patted his face. "I'll put some aspirin and water on the table in the morning."

"Thanks, momma," Sam smiled sluggishly.

Al returned the expression and moved to stand up, but Sam grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back down to his level. "No, no, no, no, shh,  _shhhhh_ ," he whispered, shoving his finger against her mouth when she tried to protest, "don' forget... remem'er that you _..._  are my favourite, not nobody else, just you."

Al couldn't help but feel touched. A drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts, right?

" _Onnlyyyy youuuuu_ ," Sam began singing, " _can make a-this world seem righhhttttt_." It was completely off-key and didn't even match the song.

"Time for you to pass out, buddy."

Al helped Sam move up on the bed and shoved two pillows under his head, laying a thick blanket over his body. He immediately snuggled up with his face buried in the covers, eyes closed before Al even finished tucking him in.

"M'love you, Ally," Sam muttered into the blanket.

"Love you too, Sammy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cuties.


	10. Coffee & Bonding

**_Clint_ **

Humming idly, Clint surveyed the shelves in front of him. Thor hadn't tried the Cookies Cream flavour yet, or Hot Fudge Sundae... but there  _was_  a limited edition of Jolly Rancher flavours which intrigued him; cherry, watermelon and green apple. Thor would eat anything set in front of them but still, Clint wanted to steal at least several so green apple and watermelon were out of the picture. The thought of that... ugh, it made his tongue ache thinking about it.

Eventually deciding to just get a few boxes of pop-tarts for each flavour, Clint knelt and started grabbing the ones from the bottom shelf.  _Confetti Cupcake, Frosted Grape, S'Mores_...

"Clint?"

The voice came out of nowhere and made him yelp in surprise, slipping on the floor with the multiple boxes he had in his arms falling out of his grasp, scattering across the aisle.

"That was... the least graceful thing I have ever witnessed," Alaina stated, amused. "For an assassin, that was kind of depressing to watch."

" _For an assassin that was kind of depressing to watch_ ," Clint mimicked in a high-pitched voice, standing up while trying to re-equip the boxes littered around him. It was very ungraceful, only proving Alaina's statement. God dammit. "Why the hell are you in Target at 11 a.m. on a Sunday?" he asked when he straightened up, tossing the various flavours of pop-tarts in his trolley.

"You say that as if it's shocking that people shop on Sundays," Alaina sassed. Her hair was shorter than he last saw her the night before so he presumed that she got it cut this morning, and she was wearing her usual attire which consisted of a loose tank top and a pair of baby blue jeans. She had a leather jacket tied around her waist, level with the quarter-full basket hanging off her arm. "I found 50 bucks in my jacket this morning, no doubt from the inconspicuous Sam who worries constantly about my wealth." She patted the leather. "Thought I'd buy some shit before work exhausts me. What are, uh..." Alaina's eyes flickered to the items in his trolley, "I'm guessing you're a fan of eating a copious amount of calories in one sitting?"

"It's for the team, too," Clint grumbled, pulling the lie out of his ass. "Thor is a god so he eats like an actual god. This is his favourite food."

Alaina blinked. "Wow, it's... weird to hear that a Norse God likes pop-tarts." She shook her head. "Anyway, I'll leave you to it. Sam threw up half of his body weight this morning and is currently passed out on my bed, so he probably won't go back to the Tower today. Or tomorrow for that matter." Alaina stepped back and gave Clint a small smile. "Tell the team I said hi."

"You could tell them yourself?" Clint suggested, his trademark smirk making an appearance when the woman frowned. "I'm about to have lunch with Wanda and Tasha. Why don't you join us?"

Alaina sighed. "Clint..."

"What?" he asked innocently. "It's just a friendly lunch date, Al."

"A date to try and get me and Natasha on a date, right?" Al cocked a knowing eyebrow, her lips pursed.

" _Nooooo_..."

"You and Sam are the least slick people I've ever met, Clint," she said, shaking her head. "I've been set up on many dates and none of them ended well. As proven by me living alone and the lack of ring on my finger."

"What- You mean the dominatrix and the- the- the  _bowel_  guy?!" Clint exclaimed, pouting like a petulant child. "Natasha isn't a dominatrix or a bowel guy... Anyway, that's not the point!" He shook his head frantically, earning a bewildered look from the woman in front of him. "If you don't give it a shot then what's the point? Everyone wants you to get together so why not give it a go?" Clint's eyes widened, and he immediately backtracked. "I-I mean, not  _everyone_..."

"No, no, what do you mean everyone?" she asked, holding a hand on her hip above the leather jacket. "Have you and Sam been talking about mine and Natasha's non-relationship with the team?"

Clint looked sheepish. "Well, just... Stark, you know? Maybe Steve, too." Alaina didn't look too convinced, judging by the somehow intimidating but blank look on her face.  _Stupid soldiers being stupidly scary._ "Well, okay, maybe the rest of the team too. Including Bruce who also wants you to get together."

"God, I thought Sam was a bad liar." Alaina shook her head, chewing her lip in thought. Her eyebrow furrowed as Clint gave her a hopeful look. "I can't go to lunch, Clint. I have a 10-hour day tomorrow and I need to get more clothes." Clint pulled out his puppy eyes. _Please work, please work, please work_... "Fine." Alaina sighed through her nose. "But only because you're paying, jackass."

Clint nearly did a happy dance right there and then.

**_Alaina_ **

God, why the hell did she agree to this? Alaina wasn't lying when she said she had stuff to do but nope, Clint had to be a persistent little shit. He was just like Sam, but not in a good way.

Al and Clint were sat outside a little corner cafe near Central Park, which was pretty full due to it being a warm day. There were only a few elderly people in the cafe - Clint explained that only locals went in and tourists usually went to the better-known places, which was good for the team because they could go there without being noticed. Although it was mostly Clint who went there.

Natasha and Wanda were on their way which Al was grateful for, as she at least had a bit of time to mentally prepare herself before she made herself look like an idiot. At least she wasn't a fumbling mess when she met Wanda and Vision, even with Thor to an extent, but Alaina doubted it would make a difference regardless. Clint seemed to be the most adamant to get to know her which was... it was a strange feeling, to put it lightly. She read all the Captain America comics with Sam growing up and while in the army - she even had a poster of him on her wall, for god's sake - but he was too perfect, the embodiment of the American Dream who fought Nazis and punched Hitler in the fucking face. He was the one Al looked up to, but Hawkeye was the one who she wanted to be. He didn't have super strength, billions of dollars, magical powers or shapeshift into a powerful creature. He was extraordinary in his own way, just like Black Widow.

And now Al was friends with both of them.

Which was weird.

"So," Clint started, rocking back in his seat with a determined glint in his eye. "I've been talking to Sam--"

"Didn't we just have a conversation about this?"

"- and we both came to the mutual understanding that you should ask Tasha out on a date," he finished, crossing his arms smugly.

"You say that as if it's a shocking revelation that you two want that to happen." Al said, bringing her cup of hot drink to her lips. The black coffee tasted bitter on her tongue but she preferred it that way. "Natasha and I are big girls. If we did like each other, we'd be able to do it without our friends trying to force it."

"Well," Clint shrugged, "I know she isinterested."

Alaina nearly spit out her coffee. "What?" she spluttered, staring at him in shock. "Stop bullshitting. You're worse than Sam."

"I'm not," Clint argued defensively, eyebrows at his hairline. "She told me that you were her perfect type; strong, tall, short hair, dark eyes, a nice rack-"

"Dude." Al couldn't stop her heart from pounding against her chest. Was he being serious? "You should probably stop there."

"Are you having gay panic?" Clint looked sympathetic. God, Al wanted to hit him. "Trust me, I get that a lot."

"You're straight," she pointed out, heart still hammering.

"Not for Thor." He looked past Alaina in deep thought. "I would climb that man like a tree."

Al gaped, eyebrows furrowed like she didn't know what to say.

"Anyway," Clint shook his head, blinking. "It isn't just the physical aspect. Tash likes  _you_ , Al. When you fell asleep on her during movie night, she said that it was the most she'd ever felt for someone in a long time. And," he leaned over the table, smirking, "she thought it was super-hot the way you knocked Stone down a peg or two. And said she nearly kissed you right there and then when you had a go at Tony and Steve last night." He winked, leaving her in a stupor. "Well, it was pretty hot."

"Wh- What...?"

"Alaina?" a sultry voice questioned in surprise before the space next to her became occupied. "I didn't know you'd be joining us." _Speak of the devil and she doth appear._

"Yeah, me neither," Al chuckled, wrapping her fingers around her coffee mug to stop them from shaking. Natasha was sat so close that she could just feel her, right there, next to her, existing. "Hey there, Wanda." Al gave her a two-fingered salute as she took the seat next to Clint. He did the favour of pre-ordering their drinks, so each cup matched where their owner sat. The dick knew Natasha would sit next to Al.

"It is good to see you again," Wanda smiled, her accent drifting over Alaina like a cool wave. "How is Sam doing?"

"Besides the hangover, grouchiness, throwing up all over my bathroom and barely escaping a broken liver, he's okay," Al replied. Natasha gave a breathy laugh next to her.

"Sounds like someone I know," Natasha murmured, smirking at Clint over her cup. She had her coffee like Al's, black and bitter- hey, just like Sam this morning. Black and bitter. Very bitter. And moody.

"At least I didn't throw up," Clint grumbled.

"And you didn't challenge Captain America and Thor to a drinking contest," Al intercepted.

"But you did lose against the guy who challenged Captain America and Thor to a drinking contest," Natasha pointed out.

"It wasn't... that bad," Clint disagreed weakly.

"No, it was," Wanda backed up Natasha and Al. "You married Alaina and Natasha rather loudly before declaring that they were the cutest couple in the land."

Al flushed, lowering her head and pressing her lips between her teeth to stop herself from smiling like a dork.

"Could'a been worse," Clint shrugged. "At least I didn't threaten Tiberius Stone."

"Oh, come on, it was hardly a threat," Al objected, pursing her lips. "I asked him to leave Stark alone."

"And then implied that he couldn't get it up," Natasha said, but it wasn't the same tone that Tony had used, she sounded impressed.  _She thought it was super-hot the way you knocked Stone down a peg or two_ , Clint's words echoed in her mind. Alaina shook away the thoughts quickly. "And called him a... limp-dicked prick, right?"

"The man got what he deserved," Wanda commented, praising Al. "We all want to bring down his ego, even Steve, but he knows we have an image to maintain so he does not like it when someone speaks what they think."

"So, I should become the spokesperson for the Avengers, huh?" Al grinned broadly, leaning back in her seat. "I don't fight the bad guys, but I will knock them down a few notches."

Clint replied with something, but Al didn't listen when her phone started vibrating in her pocket. She slid it out and looked at the caller ID, her smile faltering. Natasha noticed, tilting her head with creased eyebrows and a concerned expression on her face.

"Sorry, I have to take this," Al interrupted suddenly, sliding out of her seat. She brushed past Natasha and Wanda and ignored Clint's confusion, ducking around the corner before answering the call. "Hello?" she asked more out of instinct than anything else since she already knew who it was.

" _Hey there, Ally_ ," his gruff voice sounded. He even had the nerve to sound guilty. " _I know this probably ain't a good time, I'm, uh... I need your help._ "

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Al growled, her eyes stinging. "You need my help?"

" _I got myself in some serious shit, I-_ " he cut himself off, hissing through his teeth. " _I'm sorry. Ain't got no one else to trust but you._ "

"Try Curt or Billy," she said. “It’s been years, Frank. I’m not helping you with shit.” She abruptly hung up and threw her phone on the ground, hearing but not seeing the smash of the screen.

And she thought her life couldn't go more downhill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I really add Frank Castle to this fic? Damn right I did (although he was already tagged)! I'm guessing a lot of you haven't watched The Punisher or any of the Netflix shows, but do not fret, I'll fully explain anything that happens in the show which ties back in with this fic. If you DO have Netflix, I highly recommend watching it regardless because it's such an amazing show, and Jon Bernthal nails the performance.
> 
> I'm so sorry for the long wait but I'm currently on holiday and haven't had much time to come back here.
> 
> The main plot is gonna get moving now because, well, I'm not one to write super fluffy and happy stories (but this one has a happy ending I promise). That's something to look forward to.


	11. Peter Parker

**_Alaina_ **

Alaina couldn't remember the last time she had to wake up at 6 a.m. for a job when she wasn’t in the army. She had an hour to get ready and mentally prepare herself, thirty minutes on the bus ride to the school, and then she had to go to the meeting where she would basically be briefed for her first day.

And she was shitting herself.

Alaina had to tutor a group of 15-year-olds. The last time she had spoken to a 15-year-old was when she was also a 15-year-old.

Yesterday, Alaina decided to leave without telling the trio. She texted Clint saying that Sam called her and wasn't feeling too good - he probably didn't believe her, being a super spy and all, but he didn't call her up on it. She nearly told Sam about Frank Castle calling her when saw that he was, in fact, awake, laying on her couch watching  _To Kill A Mockingbird_ , but decided it was just a one-off. The curtains were drawn so the room was shrouded in darkness, Sam's face peeking above the blankets wrapped around his body.

It was her Avengers duvet, she noted with embarrassment, the same one her dad got her when she first moved in. He thought it would be funny since it was targeted for kids, but she actually liked it. She rarely dragged it out from under her bed and it didn't even have Sam, Clint or Natasha on it. It was just Iron Man, Captain America, the Hulk and Thor.

Maybe her new students would like her if they knew that she was friends with the Avengers?

Okay, just breathe, Alaina. You can do this.

The school itself was three floors high and close to 200 feet wide, with crumbling bricks and dirtied windows that were arranged in straight rows. It looked pretty dingy but hey, it beat working as a waitress and constantly smelling of spilt coffee. She hoped the teachers were better than her previously colleagues.

As she approached the front entrance - the front was completely void of students since classes didn't start in an hour - she saw a woman standing in front of the large doors, checking her watch and glancing around the courtyard. Al froze for a moment, the nervousness seeping back in when the woman noticed her. She lit up, giving a small but frantic wave which Al reluctantly returned.

"Hi there!" the woman smiled brightly as Alaina reached her. The woman looked a bit younger than Al, pale skin, small and slim with dirty blonde hair that reached her shoulders in loose waves and blue eyes that were  _far_  too happy to be real. "You must be the new teacher. Miss..." she glanced down to the clipboard in her hand which Al didn't even notice she had, "Alaina Gunley. I'm Astrid Berry, one of the other tutors here. Please follow me." She spun on her toe before Al could even get a word in, stepping through the front entrance. Her heels clicked against smooth floorboards.

 _Astrid Berry_  sounded like a character from a YA novel. Al wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

Turns out, it wasn't such a great thing. Astrid was nice and had good intentions, but Alaina could barely keep up with her both physically and verbally. Al liked to think of herself as stronger than the average Joe since she was in the army for close to a decade and was the best soldier in her division, but Jesus, Astrid walked like she had a literal rocket stuck up her ass. The only words Al spoke was when the 20-minute tour was over was, ' _it was good meeting you, too._ "

The classroom was pretty bland, with plain cream walls and panel lights lining the ceiling. There were about 25 single desks settled in front of the projector at the front, next to where Alaina's desk was. A computer, keyboard, mouse, a few pens and a few sheets of paper stapled together... Al picked up the paper and saw it was an overview of what she would be doing. It was pretty simple and most of it was just common sense; like  _intervene when students fight_  and  _make sure to mark everyone who is present_. There was some additional information about being the school's counsellor, which were just the basics of what Al learned at University.

Looked like she wouldn't be going to that meeting they said they were having, though she couldn't complain. Interactions with new colleagues were always awkward.

Al looked at the clock on the wall at the back and saw it was only 8:40. Still got 20 minutes to spare.

She started rummaging through the file cabinets, finding stacks upon stacks of plain and lined paper, a bunch of pens and pencils, some leaflets which were going to be relevant to the counselling aspect of the job, and a wall stapler.

Her mind wandered to the call. It had been seven years since her and Frank Castle last saw each other, and since then they didn't talk at all. Al remembered Frank calling her after they left the army when he moved to Boston and Al moved in with Sam in New York, saying that he wanted her to meet his wife and kids. Thinking back on it now, it felt almost like a test to see if she was fit to be Frank's friend. Maria, Frank's wife, asked a lot of questions, especially about Al's time in the army, but she wasn't pushy.

Maria was a sweet woman who kept Frank grounded, always sending scolding looks his way if he acted too caveman-esque - he learned how to chew loudly and sloppily from his fellow soldiers, a habit something Alaina found as equally disgusting as Maria did. Frank Jr was quiet and didn't speak to Al much, but it was easy to see that he was a good kid. He resembled Frank a lot, too, with dark hair and the same hazel eyes. Liz, the older sibling, was much more boisterous and even started calling Alaina  _aunt Ally_  which filled her heart in a way it had never been filled before.

So why did he call Alaina instead of Maria? If it was army-related she would have likely gotten a call from Curtis, or hell, even Billy.

When she thought about Frank's wife, for some reason Natasha drifted into her mind.

Did Al want to go on a date with the badass Russian spy assassin? Um, yes. But was she too scared to grow some balls and ask her in fear that she would be rejected? Most definitely. Al wouldn't necessarily call what she had a crush on the woman. It was more physical attraction than anything since she hardly knew her.

 _So get to know her,_  Sam would say.

 _Fuck off_ , she would reply.

But could Al do that? If Natasha was even interested - if what Clint said yesterday was true - then... well, maybe there was a possibility? But what if it didn't work out. It would just make it awkward for Sam being on the team with Natasha. And Al... She liked the team.

For whatever reason, Clint was trying his best to make her feel a part of the group and he was trying to be her friend. Al hadn't spoken to Tony much anyway and they last saw each other on pretty uncomfortable terms, but she didn't regret what she did. Tiberius Stone, from the stories and what Sam had told her, was a grade-A asshole, and from the looks of it, there would be no kind of suffering of consequences for her.

Al's shut the cabinet drawers and stood up from her crouched position, feeling her knees crack with the awkward movement. She smoothed the creases of her trousers and took a deep breath, glancing at the clock to see that 10 minutes had already passed.

Still got another 10 minutes left to question her life decisions.

**_Natasha_ **

"So," Clint panted, wiping down his sweat with a white towel, "about Alaina..."

Natasha huffed, shaking her head. "You bring her up every few hours, Clint," she said, pulling on a clean shirt. "Unless you want to spar again, I'm not talking about her."

Clint whined like a child whose parent refused to give him candy. "C'mon, Tash," he said. "She's obviously into you. Why don't you just ask her out? I'm sure she would but she's too... you know."  _Too awkward_ , Natasha thought. It was cute. "We're not part of S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore. They can't decide who we date anymore. Technically, it's Tony who decides."

"God, don't remind me," Natasha muttered, slinging her dirty shirt over her shoulder. She was considerably less of a hot mess than Clint though, since he was too distracted asking Natasha about her love life. "The team talk about her every day since we saw her. Tony's saying he'll rent out a cinema for us, I'm pretty sure Sam is doing the exact same thing to Alaina that you're doing to me, right?" Clint shrugged. "Even Steve is getting on my case about it and he's usually the most respectable out of all of you."

"Really?" Clint grinned as they walked out of the gym. "What did he say?"

"Some quote about wasting time on wondering rather than doing," she explained. "He brought up Peggy. And Bucky. Said that he wished he had the courage to do what he wanted."

"Still got no clue where he is?" Clint asked, chewing his lip.

"Last time we saw him was in Bucharest," Natasha stated. That was when they found him holed up in some dingy apartment when T'Challa helped the Avengers find him the first time. "He could be anywhere by now. Like Steve said, when he wants to go missing, he'll go off the radar completely."

"Where do you think he is?" Clint asked when they reached the elevator. "Hiding under our noses or on the other side of the world?"

Natasha shrugged a shoulder, wiping the damp hair from her face. "I wish I knew him as well as you think I do, Clint," she said. "But I don't."

"If you were in his shoes," he tried again, "what would you do?"

Natasha thought for a moment. "I'd hide in plain sight," she answered.

**_Alaina_ **

Tutor went better than she was expecting. All Alaina had to do was introduce herself, go through the PowerPoint about events taking place, and then talk to each student individually. She set up appointments with each of them over the week, knowing that making them stand outside and wait until she was finished would be draining. The students were nice, too - she wasn't a big fan of Flash Thompson who said that his dream career was to be a pimp in their one-to-one, but she couldn't deny that he was funny - and none of them threw rubbers at her head like she thought they would.

It was close to 10:30 when Alaina finished her appointment with MJ who decided to stay an extra half hour just talking to her new tutor - Al took that as a good sign - and five minutes later, she would have... she checked the list...

"You have Peter next?" MJ snorted, raking her eyes over the paper.

"You can read upside-down?" Al retorted, impressed.

"It's one of my many hidden talents," MJ replied dryly. "But a pre-warning - Peter's a loser. He doesn't know how to talk to people, least of all people that are cooler than him."

"I take that as a compliment." Alaina laughed softly. "But thank you, MJ. If you see him, tell him to walk right in."

The girl raised an eyebrow. "Are you covertly kicking me out?"

"Didn't realise I was being covert about it." Al raised her own eyebrow. "But seriously, scram. Go find someone else to harass."

"I should report you to Principle," she said but got up nevertheless. "See ya tomorrow, teach." She gave a peace sign before walking out, leaving the door open behind her.

Al heard MJ talking to someone outside, presumably Peter Parker as she told him that  _teach is about to give you detention, good luck man_.

Alaina moved the picture MJ had drawn her to the side next to her computer -  _look how much better I made you_ , she had said. It was a damn good drawing. Al needed to find somewhere to put it.

A kid with scruffy hair, a backpack slung over his shoulder and a nervous smile on his face walked in. "Uh... hi?"

"Peter," Al greeted, giving a small grin with her hands clasped over her stomach. "Take a seat."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOoOOoOooooOooOoO Peter Parker is in the building guys, as well as the other SMH cast. I kind of imagined MJ to be like Rosa Diaz from B99, which is basically what she's like in Homecoming but still.
> 
> So Clint is still playing cupid, Steve is now encouraging Nat to go for it... When will it happen? I wonder, hmmmm...
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


	12. Uhhh... What?!

_**Alaina** _

Peter Parker was a very awkward kid but it was endearing in a way. It reminded Al of herself when she was his age; he was good at talking and giving clear answers but it was always said nervously like he thought he was being tested or something. Only she got in a few dozen more fights than Peter.

Al decided to ask him what his interests were, remembering to put her degree to good use. Asking closed questions like  _do you want to go to university_  or  _what are your future plans_  is easy for anyone to answer, but Al learned that asking about someone's interests would both make them warm up to her and it would create a conversation. It was what she did with MJ, although the girl was a natural conversationalist and seemed to like Al, it helped Al get to know her a bit more.

And it worked, since Peter's eyes lit up as he began talking about quantum physics or something similar.

Alaina couldn't lie, she did zone out after half a minute, but nodded along and smiled encouragingly to keep him going. Science wasn't her cup of tea but this kid was clearly passionate about it and made it sound more interesting than it probably was.

"-and Mr. Stark lets me help him out in his lab, with the internship and everything-"

Alaina did a double take. "Tony Stark?" she clarified. Tony Stark asked some student to help him in his lab? On an  _internship?_

"Oh, I, uh," Peter stumbled over his words, realising what he said. "I mean, he- he didn't  _really_  ask me to help him out in the... the lab... I was just,  _exaggerating_..."

"I won't tell anyone, Peter." She gave a breathy laugh, both surprised and annoyed that she couldn't escape from the mere mention of The Avengers for two hours. Next, the kid would tell her to ask Natasha out on a date. "So you intern for To- Mister Stark?" This is a professional environment, Alaina. You do  _not_  know Tony Stark personally.

"I, uh, really shouldn't have said that," he said with wide eyes. There was sweat beading along his eyebrow and his breaths came out as shaky. "I'm not an- an intern or anything, that would be  _ridiculous_." He laughed awkwardly, falsely. "Mr. Stark doesn't even know me, I've never even met _The Avengers_ -"

And then Alaina remembered.

_"Yeah, going for my interview at Midtown High School tonight," Al told him, smiling a little. "Tony thinks my qualifications could get me anywhere, but he seemed adamant on getting me to work at Midtown. Any child superheroes I should know about?" She chuckled._

_"Uhh..."_

_Alaina's smile faltered. "Please don't tell me there are any child superheroes who study at Midtown High School."_

_"Uhhhh..."_

_"Sam!" Al exclaimed in a hiss. She ducked into a nearby alley and held her hand over the speaker, keeping her voice low. "You recruited a teenager to be part of The Avengers? Are you insane?! Oh, god, don't tell me it's Negasonic Teenage Warhead or something."_

_"First off, it's actually Spider-Man," Sam corrected like it would help this case._

"Oh, shit." She breathed, straightening in her seat. "You're...  _him_."

"What?" No, no." Peter chuckled nervously. "I'm Peter Man- Spider Parker- I'm gonna be late for class," he muttered with wide eyes, grabbing his backpack and standing up with great speed.

"Wait, I know Tony-" Alaina went to grab his arm, but was thrown back when something hit her wrist and stuck her to the table. She automatically tried pulling her hand away but... the  _thing_  sticking her to her desk didn't budge. It looked like a web, but felt much stronger.

"Oh, my god." Peter looked horrified. "Yo-You know Mister Stark? I'm so so sorry, I thought... I thought you were gonna..."

"Hey, Peter. Calm down, alright? You thought I was going to hurt you and you defended yourself, okay?" Peter was pacing in front of her, eyes bulging out of his head as he breathed frantically. He was on the brink of hyperventilating. "Please stop for a second and look at me, Peter." The teen froze in place, frightened eyes flickering between her trapped hand and the calm expression on her face. Al breathed out, relieved. "Do you know how to get this off me?" she asked.

He shook his head rapidly. "N-No, and it takes like 2 hours for it to wear off," Peter answered. "I-I think Mister Stark has a... some solution that could, that could get it off. Maybe. H-He's been working on it since he found me."

"Okay," Al replied calmly. She deliberately kept her breathing loud and steady, knowing that Peter would eventually match her pace. Alaina felt ridiculous trying to console a child while literally  _stuck to her desk_. "Can you do me a favour and pass me my phone? It's in my bag, behind the desk."

Peter quickly complied, dropping his backpack on the floor next to one of the desks in the front row. He moved behind her desk with a swiftness that surprised her, but, well, he was  _Spider-Man_.

When her phone was in her left hand - it was very awkward handling her phone with the opposite hand - she unlocked it and scrolled down to her contacts page. Al hit Sam's contact name, which was ' _big daddy'_  because Sam thought it was hilarious and she didn't care about changing it back, and then called him.

He picked up after a few rings. " _What does my third favourite gay woman want on this fine evening?_ "

"I..." She glanced at Peter to see him go back to pacing back and forth, chewing the end of his thumb. "I got myself in a bit of a predicament-" she cut herself off. "Wait,  _third?_ "

" _Yup_ ," he answered with a pop. " _I recently discovered the joys of Ellen Page. Anyway, what's up? Didn't threaten a student, did you?_ "

"What?" she asked, lip curling. "No, Sam. I... I'll be blunt. I met Peter Parker, I told him I knew who he was, and now I'm stuck to my desk with a web." There was a pause. "Apparently Tony has some kind of solution that can get me unstuck, and I have to go to the principal in 30 minutes so please..."

"Only you, Al," Sam muttered, sighing. " _Right, I'll... I'll go and ask Tony now. We'll talk about this later._ "

"Thanks, Sammy," Alaina murmured with a small smile. "Make sure to tell him to delete this classroom footage, too."

" _You want Tony Stark to hack into a high school in order to delete CCTV footage?_ "

"Yes."

" _You know that's illegal, right?_ "

"Are you saying he won't?"

" _Fair point. Got it. Have fun, babe. Try not to unnerve the kid. Bye._ "

He hung up.

Alaina locked her phone and placed it on the desk next to her hip, watching as the kid deliberately avoided her gaze.

Spider-Man, a member who wasn't exactly a member of The Avengers, was a 15-year-old boy, half the age of Alaina. He probably went on the same missions as Captain America and Iron Man, but... Okay, deep breaths, Al, don't get mad by just thinking about it. Sam was right when he mentioned that Al was too protective for her own good, especially when it came to situations like this. When Sam told her that he was an official member of The Avengers, an actual  _superhero_ , her initial reaction was to punch him in the face. Partly because he hid it from her for months, but mostly because he told her that he was close to death multiple times during the fall of Manhattan. Looking back now, it was an exaggeration, but finding out that your best friend, your brother, was risking his life every day... it struck a nerve. But Sam was a grown adult. Peter wasn't.

A part of Alaina - a  _huge_  part of Alaina - wanted to go right up to Tony Stark and demand why he thought it would be a good idea to hire someone three times his junior. She knew a little bit about Spider-Man from Sam, like his name and a bit about his abilities from the YouTube videos she watched. He seemed more than capable to defend himself because Al caught a few clips of Spider-Man in action on YouTube, but... he was a  _kid_ , for Christ's sake. A kid who was studying in high school.

But maybe shouting at Tony twice in three days wouldn't be the best course of action.

"Are you... uh, are you hurt?" Peter asked, his voice quiet. He stopped pacing a few moments ago and settled down on top of one of the desks instead, legs swinging idly.

Alaina smiled reassuringly. "I'm fine, Peter. Don't worry about me," she said. He nodded, lowering his head to the ground. "I'm guessing you've met the team, then?" she asked, relaxing her backside against the edge of her desk.

"Yeah," he answered timidly. "Have you?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed, lightly clenching her fist against the webs. Not even a twitch against the tight material. "I'm actually friends with Sam Wilson. I've known him since we were kids."

"Really?" Peter asked, surprised. He grew the courage to look and meet Al's eyes.

"Yep," she answered with an easy grin. "Man, the stories I have. He used to be a card collector, you know? Denies it now but I have the evidence in a box somewhere in my apartment."

Peter's mouth quirked into a smile, a quiet breathy laugh escaping him. "He's the last person I would have thought to collect cards," he commented. "Was it  _Magic: The Gathering_?"

"Yeah," she answered, her eyebrows pulling together in amusement. "I'm guessing that you... are also a collector?"

"What?  _No_ , no, no" Peter laughed skittishly. "I just know  _of_  them." Al's eyebrow rose as she gave him a disbelieving expression. "Okay, I have a few." Her brow rose further. "I-I... I wouldn't call it a  _collection_."

Alaina snorted and for a second, Peter looked like he thought he said the wrong thing, but when he saw that her eyes were crinkling from laughter, he looked down again, this time sheepishly. He was trying to hide his own laughter, Al decided.

They talked for a while about their favourite cards, in terms of aesthetic. Al's personal favourite was Jeska the Warrior and Alesha, Who Smiles At Death and she learned that Peter liked Fencing Ace who he argued was underrated, and Ana Amari because he was just badass looking. He still shifted in his seat like he wanted nothing more than to run out of the classroom without turning back, but the fact that he didn't was a good sign in her eyes.

The closed-door being tapped from the other side made the two abruptly stop their conversation. Oh, shit.  _Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit_...

"It's Natasha."

Peter and Al simultaneously breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that it wasn't another teacher about to walk in on the awkward situation.

Wait.

_Why was Natasha here?_

Can Sam just  _stop_  and not try and force-

_Who the hell looked that good in leggings and a hoodie?_

Alaina,  _focus_.

"Hi, Ms. Romanoff-" Peter started.

"What did I say last time I saw you, Peter?" Natasha asked with a teasing smile. "You're allowed to call me nothing but Spider Mom or Mother Widow. No missus or misters around me, 'kay?" She patted his cheek, not waiting for a response when she turned to Alaina. "Hey."

"Hi," Al breathed, smiling like a nerd.

Natasha pressed her lips together to hide her smirk and reached into her hoodie pocket, pulling out a small vial filled with a clear liquid and a pipette. "Got the cure," she said.

_To my heart?_

Nope. That's too gay, Al. Don't say that.

"Are you sure it isn't water?" Al settled with instead.

"I could always give it a try," she said, walking towards where Alaina was stuck. She popped the bottle off the vial and gave it a sniff. "But it smells like vinegar mixed with carbon monoxide, so I'll probably pass."

"Good call." Al nodded. Natasha gave a closed-lipped smile and sauntered over to the woman, dropping the pipette in the vial and squeezing so some of the liquid into the clear tube. She reached the desk and cocked her hip against the wood, right next to her trapped hand and only a few inches away from Al's body. Al kept her body facing forward but turned her head towards Natasha, looking down as she dripped some of the liquid on the edges of the web. "So, uh, no offence or anything, but I thought...  _Sam_  was coming?"

"That was the plan," Natasha replied smoothly, eyes focused on what she was doing. Alaina looked into her eyes anyway, watched as Natasha chewed her full bottom lip softly, saw her eyes move with the actions of her hands. "He encouraged me to go in his place. But..." Her green eyes darted upwards and Al felt a flush of embarrassment flush through her. She was just... staring at Natasha. "I wanted to talk to you anyway."

"O-Oh?" Al stuttered, her pulse skipping a beat. This could either end with Al pissing herself from fear or... well, Al pissing herself from happiness. Either way, it would end in piss.

"The boys have been pretty adamant on trying to get us together, I'm sure everyone in New York noticed," she laughed softly, eyes drifting back down to the web.  _Oh no_. "I don't want you to think that I'm doing this so they'll leave us alone or anything like that. This is all coming from my free will." She added a few more drops of the liquid to the centre of the web and Al felt it drip through and onto her hand. "I want to go out with you, Alaina. On a date."

"Hum, hn,  _what?_ " Alaina flustered. "You want...?"

"To take you out on a date, yes," Natasha finished with a small chuckle. "I won't hold it against you if you say no-"

"No!" Al practically shouted. "Um, I mean,  _yes_. To the date, not the no. I accept the date-  _your_  date."

Natasha glanced up at her coyly, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Good." And then got back to removing the web.

Peter, from the corner of Al's eye, had the biggest smile on his face.

Holy shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahsbBDuas it happened. I was gonna wait longer but I just couldn't, there's going to be quite a bit of angst very soon so here's some happiness for the time being.
> 
> Okay, so I'm going to clarify the timeline of this story because I haven't been very good at explaining it, so the following paragraph will have spoilers for Captain America: Civil War and (major spoilers for) The Punisher and season 2 of Daredevil. Be warned.
> 
> NM is set after CACW but the Civil War part didn't happen. The Accords don't exist, but the team were on a hunt to find Bucky. Steve didn't know that Bucky killed Tony's parents and Bucky slipped through their grasp and is currently missing, but Tony is still trying to track him down. All the events of CATWS happened, including Fury's 'death' and the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. As for The Punisher, Frank's family do eventually get killed but Frank doesn't go on the same redemption mission as he does in the show (there will be one but I won't spoil that as it will ruin this fic), nor does he 'die' in Daredevil, so Frank Castle is very much alive. In the show, Frank's family were killed years ago but in this, it's going to be very recent. As for Peter, everything that happened in Spider-Man: Homecoming happened in this fic and the events took place before this.
> 
> THANKFULLY, I'm not including Infinity War in Night Moves, both for the fact that it will just complicate this fic and because the way I would write it would leave you all an emotional mess. Ya welcome.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	13. Sticky Situation

**_Alaina_ **

_Nerves pricked at the back of her skull as she sat in her new base, her home for the next few years. She and a dozen men were sat inside a white tent, arms crossed and legs sprawled out as their new boss spewed a bunch of shit about joining the Cerebus as if every soldier in the room didn't already know. Being surrounded by burly men wasn't new to Alaina, but there were at least other women in the army. Not in this case. Not another woman for several miles._

_"Success here is a matter of perspective," the boss spoke. He was short and bald, had an upturned nose and a air of authority around him that made Alaina immediately dislike him. It was similar to her old commanders, only more prominent since their jobs would be more important. "It can't be measured in battles won or land claimed. "Gentlemen, lady," he said lady in a softer tone as he bowed his head towards Al, "I'm here to offer you freedom." The men in the room gave her a one-over. Gosh, she loved being singled out. "To wage the war that must be waged to finally win this thing. What we will do is dirty and tough, but it will speed an end of this war and safeguard out nation." He nodded to the large man flanking him, who was wearing army green camouflage unlike his superior, who had on a plain button-up. "Major Schoonover."_

_"You were all handpicked 'cause you're the best at what you do," he began, hands clasped behind his back as he walked down the row of people sat on hard benches. "Inter-unit rivalry has no place here. Berets, Delta, SEALs, Force Recon... I don't give a shit. This is who we are now." He gave each of them a hard look. "This is Operation Cerberus and you are my dogs of war." He walked back down the row, standing next to his boss once again. "The enemy operates without regard to honour or rules. So neither will we. Our mission is simple: we capture, interrogate and execute high-value targets."_

_"Sounds like the Pheonix Program," a man with dark stubble on his jaw sat opposite Al muttered to the guy wearing a tank sat next to him._

_"Do we have a problem with that, gentlemen?" the boss asked._

_"Not if Congress doesn't," the guy wearing the tank replied, taking a swig from his bottled water. His voice was gruff._

_The boss nodded. "They're fine with it," he informed. "I'm the only authority you will need. I point, you shoot." Al couldn't stop her eyes from rolling to the ceiling, which the stubble man noticed when he suppressed his grin._

_"Castle, Russo and Gunley are team leaders," Schoonover said. "They'll post all assignments. Any questions?"_

_"Sir," stubble man raised his hand, leaning forward in his seat, "does this mean that Ann-Margret's_ not _coming?"_

_Alaina snorted, shaking her head as the soldiers around her chuckled._

_"Jackass," tank top guy murmured._

* * *

_Alaina had all of her shit unpacked, even if it wasn't that much. A toothbrush, toothpaste, clothes, underwear, the second and third Game of Thrones book, a pen and notepad, and a few photos for keepsake._

_She had to share a tent with 6 guys which wasn't exactly ideal but she was easily adaptable, and it would be better than sharing with the 7 in the other tent. There were three beds on either side of the tent, hers was in the middle opposite tank top guy, and next to every single bed was a chest of drawers, where they would keep everything. Alaina had the edge of her photos pinned down by her book on top of the chest so they wouldn't slide off. She caught a glimpse of Sam's face when she sat on the side of her bed, and then thought_ fuck it _so she slid it out and held it between her fingers._

_It was taken after a successful mission; they found a group of terrorists who were planning an attack and neutralised them. She and Sam were sat on a stack of boxes outside in the sun surrounded by their teammates - she saw half of Riley's dumb face in the frame - and they were the midst of clinking a beer, giant smiles on their faces. It was one of her favourite pictures of them, sure it was crinkled around the edges and had a coffee stain in the middle, but she loved it nonetheless._

_"Friend of yours?" someone asked from above her. Her eyes drifted upwards and she saw stubble guy staring at the picture in her hand, head tilted._

_"Yeah," she answered, before clearing her throat. It was husky from lack of sleep and drinking water. "Force Recon, part of the black ops. Good man. Good soldier."_

_The man took a seat in front of her on the other bed, which she assumed was his. "He your partner?"_

_"Was," she corrected with a small laugh. "Got a new one not too long after, Riley Harper. Before Agent Asshole decided to pick me for his mystery gang."_

_"The guys here call 'im Agent Orange, but close enough." The man chuckled and held his hand out for her to shake. "Billy Russo." One of the team captains._

_Al took his hand and shook it firmly. Men usually judged how strong someone was depending on the hardness of their handshake, which she found very strange but it usually worked. "Alaina Gunley," she greeted. "But I usually go by Al."_

_"Shit," he breathed, eyes widening slightly. "You're one of the captains, too?"_

_"Surprised?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow. "I'm guessing most guys in here and thinking the same. Probably won't like it when a woman orders them around, right?"_

_"Don't gotta worry about me," Billy said, holding his hands up defensively. "Met plenty'a women in the forces who can turn my ass backwards. Some of the guys here probably haven't, though."_

_"Bunch of virgins," Al couldn't help but mutter._

_Billy laughed, leaning back to run his hands through his slick-back hair. He was handsome in a pretty-boy way, with dark features and bright, flirty eyes. She hoped to god he wouldn't try it on with her for a multitude of reasons. "Gotta say, a part of me wants to see you stomp their asses if they get all... Pat Robertson on you."_

_"I can only hope," she breathed a quiet laugh, putting the picture of her and Sam back in its place. Billy's eyes followed her movements and he caught the two books stacked on top of each other._

_"You read?" he asked, dark eyes meeting hers again. "My boy Frankie reads," he shouted the next part, "ain't that right, Frank?"_

_"The fuck are you talking about, asshole?" a voice shouted back, pulling a smirk from Billy. Al's turned her head and saw he was talking to tank top guy, who had a guitar sat in his lap._

_"Jus' saying that you and Gunley can trade books since you're the only nuts who enjoy reading," he said teasingly._

_"Wait until you get bored off your ass jacking off in the shower, and then we'll see who's asking who for a good read," Al retaliated, patting the cover of her books for good measure._

_Frank snorted. "Gotta agree with Gunley on this."_

_Billy flipped him off and laid back down on his bed, pulling a beanie over his head as he settled as comfortably as he could in the spring-linen mattress. "Asshole," he mumbled under his breath._

_Frank smiled at his friend, nodded at Al and then went back to his guitar. Al watched for a few moments as he lightly strummed a few notes on the instrument. There was a serene smile playing on his lips._

* * *

Alaina couldn't sleep. From Natasha asking her out on a date to that call with Frank, both of which she was still reeling over, she couldn't sleep.

Sometimes if too much was going on at once, her mind would cloud over and she simply wasn't able to relax into her bed. But this time it was worse. It was 3 a.m. on a Thursday night, and she had a long day at work, but she couldn't shut her eyes for more than one minute without them snapping back open. Her old therapist told her that meditating or doing yoga before sleeping will relax your tense muscles which will help you sleep, but tonight nothing seemed to work. Al had been breathing deeply in through her nose and out through her mouth for about a half hour before she decided to get up and go to the kitchen for a drink.

The New York rain splattered against her living room window, the yellow lights from the street lamps lighting up her living room in an ugly glow. Unlike a lot of people, Al didn't like the sound of rain or thunder and lightning. It made her nervous for some reason. And it was extremely cold in her apartment.

She grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it half-way with cold tap water before downing it, not realising how thirsty she was. A part of her wanted to drink the vodka Sam gifted her last week, but thought it wouldn't be a great idea since she had to be awake in about 4 hours. Refilling her glass again, she walked to her living room and flicked the light-switch, but the light didn't turn on. Great. Either her landlord didn't ask about her electricity bill or there was a blackout due to the bad weather. At least she had the dim glow from the lights outside.

Turning around, Al's drink nearly dropped on the floor. On her couch was... a man. Like, a real man. Passed out with one arm and one leg slung over the sofa, head propped up on a cushion. She couldn't see much of his face due to the lack of light and the fact his long hair was draped over his cheek and eyes. Blood stained his navy blue hoodie and there was a stream down the side of the sofa that led to a small puddle of red on her carpet.

Shit.

Deciding to think logically later, Alaina sprung into action, mentally thanking her medical training in the army. She checked his pulse and found that it was beating steadily - whether that was a good thing or bad thing, she didn't know. Al might be nursing some kind of serial killer back to health, for god's sake.

But did that fact stop her?

Nope.

Alaina unzipped his hoodie to get closer to the source of bleeding, closely watching his body language to see if he would wake up. His breathing was light and steady, and his muscles were relaxed so he was definitely knocked the hell out. Al carefully peeled his sticky undershirt over his abdomen to get a look at the nasty looking gunshot wound that was steadily leaking blood. It was below his right rib where his stomach would be, and judging by the amount of dried blood on his torso, Al was surprised he was still even breathing.

She got up and ran back to the kitchen, and grabbed a flashlight and the bag full of medical supplies placed under her sink, catching sight of the open window. It was the window to the fire escape which explained both how the man got in and why the apartment was so cold. Al bought the bag of medical supplies after she found out that Sam was the Falcon in case he would wind up in her apartment with a serious injury. It definitely wasn't Sam passed out on her furniture but this stranger was the second best thing... right?

Al knelt back down next to the unconscious man and dropped the bag by her feet. She took a moment to pray that the man wouldn't wake up and kill her as she wrapped an arm under his torso and pulled up, using her other hand to raise his shirt over his body so it wouldn't get in the way. She felt around his back for a moment and felt raised, rough skin where he apparently had scars, but there was no exit wound on the back. That meant she'd have to dig the bullet out with tweezers. It also meant that he could either have lead poisoning or the bullet could have split into fragments.

Al found the packet of alcohol wipes and ripped it open with her teeth, before wiping the dried blood off the man's skin. She started further away from the wound so she wouldn't accidentally wake the man - that was the  _last_  thing she wanted.

Why was this man in  _her_  apartment instead of one the lower floors? Why wasn't he in a hospital? Who shot him?  _Why_  was he shot?  _How the hell wasn't he dead?_

So many questions that she wouldn't get the answers to. At least for now.

She tossed the bloodied wipe on the table and got another one, once again ripping it open with her teeth. His torso was mostly clean now. The only blood was settled on the edges of his wound so Al would have to do the part she was dreading the most. Alaina wasn't a field medic in the army but she had to learn the basics for helping people who have been shot or have a limb blown off. When one of her guys, Henderson, was shot in the torso similarly to this stranger, he passed out from shock. She cleaned the wound as best she could before pouring rubbing alcohol on the point of entry. Henderson woke immediately, screaming, swung his arms out and hit Al square in the nose, which led to it being broken. As well as that incident and a few others, Al knew that it would be very likely he would wake up.

His bleeding had slowed dramatically which made her job much easier and it was a sign that it was starting to scab over. Pressing her hand against his torso, above the belly button, she watched his face and saw there was no visible reaction. Once again, a good sign. She wiped the soaked cotton in a broad swipe right over his wound and still, there was no reaction. His breathing was slow like he was sleeping, but she caught his glove-covered finger twitching ever so slightly. He felt it, then. Which meant he was either awake or...

Al risked it and wiped over the wound again, this time a bit rougher. His fist clenched and his eyes snapped open.

He was awake.

Al stumbled to her feet but the man was much quicker. He had her throat pressed between her fingers before she could even take a breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's pretty obvious who this might be (if it's not obvious, ahem, it rhymes with lucky). This chapter was probably pretty boring since it was mostly Al's start in the special ops and her first meeting Frank and Billy but I hope you enjoyed it anyway? If you want reference pictures for Billy or Frank just google it (I can't hyperlink on here) like 'The Punisher Billy' or something.
> 
> Have a good day!


	14. Stranger

_**Alaina** _

The man squeezed the sides of her throat so hard that she was sure her windpipe was only a moment away from being crushed. She was gasping for breath, clawing desperately at his wrist, his arm, his shoulder, but he didn't let up. She was going to die here. Of course her last moments would be her helping someone else. Of course she was going to die in her shitty apartment.

In a desperate attempt to escape his grip, Alaina squeezed his wrist and used her other hand to punch where she could reach. Her fist cracked against his skull and the side of his neck but he stayed stoic. Gasping for breath, Al wrapped her fingers around his but failed to pry them away from her throat. He wasn't moving. The edges of her vision were spotting with white. She couldn't breathe.

And then it all disappeared.

Alaina collapsed to the ground in a heap, clutching her throat as she heaved. Not dead. You're not dead, Al. Still living.

Al turned over to lay on her back and caught the man swiftly moving to the other side of the room where the open window was. He didn't step through it and leave like she was expecting, but his body was half-turned towards Al like he wasn't sure what to do. She still couldn't see his face but noted that he was tall and broad, had dark hair that brushed his shoulders and his stance was defensive; feet shoulder-width apart and fists clenched.

It felt like Al's throat was swollen but she ignored it, instead using the table on her left and sofa on her right to haul herself up. She kept her eyes on the stranger and saw him tense, take a miniature step back when she moved.

"Please," she rasped, trying to clear her throat but it hurt more, "don't leave." She held her hands out to show she meant no harm. "You're hurt." Al nodded towards his torso. She couldn't see the wound but guessed that it reopened and was likely bleeding. "I don't want to hurt you, okay? Just... let me get that bullet out of you," his shoulders went rigid, "or you can do it yourself. I... I just can't let you go out in your condition."  _And I wanna know why the hell you're here._

There was silence, of course. His face was shrouded in darkness but Al caught a shift in his expression.

She exhaled and resisted the urge to rub her throat. It would bruise later on she knew, and it felt like her windpipe was swelling up.

"There's a gun strapped under the table," Al told him, nodding her head towards the coffee table. "And another one in my bedside table. If you think I'm going to hurt you, find them and take the bullets out. I'm... I'm not going to hurt you unless you try to hurt me." Rethinking her decision to tell this stranger who was bleeding out in her living room where her only weapons were and saying that she'd hurt him, Al realised it wasn't her smartest move. But she stuck with it.

The man reached behind him and Alaina froze, ready to duck behind the table and grab her gun to defend herself.

But his feet stayed planted in the same spot. He pulled out two shadows of... Alaina's guns. Great. If she had a chance to shoot this man before, she certainly didn't now.

He unclipped the magazines with each hand and Al watched with thin lips as they fell onto the carpeted floor.

Al tried to keep the regretful expression off her face. "You came here for a reason, right? You could've crashed in one of the lower floors but you didn't." She paused to take a breath. It was difficult to inhale. "Do I know you?" she whispered, more to herself. He didn't look familiar but Alaina had met a lot of people in her life, especially those in the army, enemies and friends. If this man  _was_  an enemy and was looking to hurt Al, he wouldn't have let go of her neck.

"Alaina," he murmured, surprising the woman. His voice was gravelly and quiet in the nippy air.

"Yeah," Al breathed. "That's my name. Can I ask... who you are?" The stranger went completely quiet again. Alaina sighed. "Okay. That's okay. You don't have to tell me, but... Is it okay if I just call you," Al wracked her brain, "Stranger?" Great name, Al. You should add that to the  _Baby's Big Book of Names_. "I can't keep referring to you as the man who broke into my apartment. Is that going to be okay?"

His head twitched into a nod. Stranger it is, then.

"Are you going to leave?"

There was a beat of nothing before his head shook.

"Is it okay if you shut the window? I'm kind of..." she trailed off, glancing down at her attire. Alaina was too busy worrying about Stranger and being strangled that she didn't even register she was only wearing her underwear and a tank top. Should she leave and change? Stranger didn't seem bothered by it. Jesus, Sam would have a field day if he saw her like this. "You're letting all the warm air out."

The man offered no kind of response but turned his body slightly towards the window. He reached up and grabbed the lower frame, slamming it down so hard that Al thought the glass was going to shatter.

"Thanks," she whispered. Why was she  _thanking_  him? "Did you come here to hurt me?" Stranger didn't seem like a warm person, so Al decided the best thing to do was to ask questions to ease him into letting her help him. Agent Asshole once told her that the best way to gain someone's trust was to manipulate them verbally. Not an inspiring quote but it still held truth.

Stranger shook his head at her question. Well, that's good.

"Can you tell me why you came here?" she asked.

No response.

"Okay." She nodded her head towards his torso, where blood was dripping from his wound and onto the floor. "Do we have to worry about who did that to you?"

He shook his head.

Great, so probably a murderer, then. Well,  _definitely_  a murderer since he nearly killed Alaina 3 minutes ago.

"Who shot you?" Al asked. She realised how ridiculous it was that she was using the same open-ended question technique with this eerily scary man as she was with Peter the other day. Man, it's a weird week.

"I don't know," he offered a verbal reply.

"You don't know who was trying to kill you?" she repeated incredulously.

Once again, he shook his head. Al didn't believe him but decided to drop it.

"Will you let me help you?" she tried again.

He didn't nod or shake his head, but moved forward. Al was ready to feel the same hand wrap around her neck. Instead, he sat down on the couch in front of her.

Alaina nodded, knelt down in front of him and asked him to lift his shirt.

* * *

_It was late in the night but everyone was still awake, the guys from the other tent huddled in their cramped one. Some of them were sat on the floor playing cards, a few others talking among themselves, mostly about their families, while Frank and Billy sat on different beds, talking and laughing while throwing a small rugby ball back and forth._

_Earlier on, she met the team she would be in charge of, as did Billy and Frank. She had four men, Gunner Henderson, Curtis Hoyle, Miles Galsworth and Jared Brady. They all thankfully seemed accepting enough that she was a woman, but she had a strange feeling about Brady. While she was talking, he looked disinterested, picking at his nails and barely holding eye contact like the other three. Probably didn't like that she was a woman in charge, but he'd have to grow up and deal with it._

_Alaina was on her bed with her head propped against a pillow, wearing a tank and a pair of shorts. She got a few looks of course, but if the guys could wear nothing but their boxers then she could show a bit of leg in a stuffy overcrowded room. Her copy of the second Game of Thrones book was in her hand, and she flipped through the pages without really taking anything in. The men were too loud for her to concentrate, but she would end up rereading it later on anyway. One thing that she missed about living in the same quarters as Sam and Riley and the girls was that it wasn't this obnoxiously irritating._

_"What about you, Ally?" Billy shouted, making the room go quiet. The men looked at her expectantly._

_"It'd be nice if I knew the question, asshole," Alaina replied, resting her book in her lap. She had just read up to the part where Stannis declared himself as the King of Westeros. This book was amazing._

_"You got any family back home?" Billy asked, tapping together two pencils with his feet crossed at the ankles. "A mom, dad, husband, kids or anything like that? Most of us have abandonment issues with our old men so we're pretty curious. Don't know jack shit about you, Ally."_

_Al leaned back in her bed, pursing her lips. "I_ don't _have abandonment issues with my old man but my mom left pretty soon after I was born," she started._

_"Must'a taken one look at you and scrammed," Billy teased. Al grabbed her shoe from the floor and chucked it at his head, but he ducked beneath before it could make an impact._

_"You're lucky I don't have a gun on me," she warned with a raised brow. Billy was a jackass so she was used to his crude jokes by now. "My dad's the only family I got."_

_"No grandparents or nothing?" Curtis, one of her team members, asked. He was no-doubt the most respectable of the entire squad._

_"He migrated from Africa so I've got no clue. Only ever met his sister, and that's about it," Al responded, earning a few raised eyebrows. "Doesn't matter anyway, they were assholes. As for husband and kids, nope."_

That _earned a few more raised eyebrows._

_"C'mon, you can't tell me that you've got no guy at home waiting on you," Billy said disbelievingly. Despite the frown, he still had that fucking grin on his face._

_"No guy," she clarified. This was_ not _a conversation that she wanted to have any time soon._

_"What about girl?" Curtis butted in again. Alaina smiled. After she had the meeting with her team members, Curtis pulled her aside and informed her that he was gay. He rambled for a while, saying that he would understand if she wanted him to switch with someone but she cut him off. 'You shouldn't apologise for who you are', she had said, before telling him that she was bi. He told some of the team, too, and they all were unbothered by it, much to her relief._

_"No girl either," Al said._

_"Wait," Brady held up a finger, "you're a dyke?"_

_Her smile disappeared. "Wanna ask that again but respectfully?"_

_"I got nothing against you people," Brady stated defensively. "I got homo friends."_

_"Said every straight guy ever," Curtis muttered. Al snorted in agreement._

_"Are you gay?" Billy asked Al, looking disheartened._

_"Christ, Bill." Frank shook his head, the corner of his mouth turning up into a smirk. "Getting a lil crush there?" he asked, rubbing his knuckles across Billy's cheek._

_Alaina couldn't help but flush. "I technically swing both ways but I'm not getting involved with any of my comrades," she said, directing it to all the men. "If a gay man can be in a room full of dudes, straight guys can handle being around a woman." With that, she picked up her book and continued reading._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feels kinda messy and I don't like it that much tbh but more backstory and Alaina helping the man who almost killed her!
> 
> No Natasha but not everything is about romance. If there are any mistakes please tell me. I'm very sleep-deprived. I'm so sorry. I hate myself, too. 


	15. How To Get Away With... Helping?

**_Steve_ **

Chewing on his lip nervously, Steve stared at the window in front of him. He was sitting on the edge of his bed with his curtains wide open, showcasing the beautiful night city before him. But he didn't feel relaxed by it. Seeing the cars, the number of people, the lights giving him a headache... it was all too much.

_Whenever you think about what happened that day, that exact moment... You think of the good times. Whatever fun you had together, you think of it and write it down. Don't have to show it to anyone but just as long as you have it there._

At first, Steve brushed the idea Alaina suggested on the roof of the gala, but after speaking with Sam who had his own journal which he sometimes showed Alaina -  _she's damn good at what she does, Steve, better than me for sure_  - he changed his mind. Steve started writing in his leather-bound journal on a whim, thinking that he'd want to keep it all to himself, but as he started filling up pages and pages of memories with him and Bucky, he felt the impulsive need to just  _show_  someone. Usually the first person he would think of was Sam, followed by Natasha and sometimes even Tony since he was usually awake dead into the night and had a softer side when Steve was upset, but instead, his mind immediately went to Alaina. Maybe it was because she could relate to him? Sam could, too, but he wasn't physically  _there_  when Riley died. Alaina was, and he wanted to share his memories with someone who'd understand, not someone who would drown him in sympathy. Tony was a no-go when it came to Bucky after learning about the murder of his parents. Steve understood but it still stung. Tony was becoming his best friend.

Steve picked up his phone and clicked on his contacts, the first name there being  _Alaina_. Sam gave him her number after their conversation about the journals, likely knowing what Steve wanted to do before he knew himself.

The phone rang several times before going to voicemail which didn't surprise Steve since it was nearly 4 a.m. and she had a job to go to in the morning.

"Uh, hey. It's Steve Rogers," he started after the tone beeped. "I thought about what you said about writing things down... You know, turning the bad memories into good ones. I've done a few pages in a journal now and, you said I didn't have to show it to anyone but it feels like I need to show to someone, so... Well, I guess I want you to read it? I know it was a bit rocky the other night and I understand if you don't want to read it, but... the offer's there, I guess? Uh, call back when you have the time." He took a deep breath. "And I want to apologise what happened the other night, I know Tony wants to, too, but I'm guessing you already know what he's like. Doesn't like admitting he was wrong but he knows he was when he snapped at you. Stone bringing up Riley, threatening to take away your ranks..." Steve shook his head, "I would have reacted the same. Soldier to soldier. Anyway, I'll, uh, leave you to it. Call me back when you have the time, Alaina. Thank you." He removed the phone from his ear and hit the end call button.

No turning back now.

* * *

_**Alaina** _

"You know," Al whispered after several minutes of silence, "I was having a pretty good week before you broke into my home." She pulled the thread through his skin and pressed the needle down on the other side of the wound. Stranger didn't flinch, and it didn't look like he was listening to her. Well, it was difficult to tell since this man could turn into a literal marble statue and Alaina wouldn't notice. "I mean, I started a new job which is stressful for anyone, but I actually enjoy it. I even made a new friend which hasn't happened at work for years and, not bragging or anything, but I'm damn good at what I do. I guess it's my expertise? God knows that my degree has done jack shit since I graduated, but hey, at least it's coming in handy now." Using another alcohol wipe, she dabbed away the blood that trickled out from where she stabbed him with the needle. Al held the needle between her teeth, after wiping that down too, and threw the dirtied wipe in the growing pile on the table.

"I'm saving up the money to move out, into this great house a few miles east," she continued, picking up the needle. "I don't think I've ever lived in a house, at least not from I remember. Probably did when I was a baby before poverty landed smack-bang in front of us." Al accidentally pushed the needle in a bit too hard and noticed the man's gloved fingers twitch. Huh, looked like he wasn't a  _complete_  robot. "It even has a garage.  _And_  two bathrooms. Not much of a back garden but I can barely look after myself, so how the hell can I look after a patch of grass?" She chuckled quietly to herself. "And it's fully detached as well, which is pretty fucking awesome since I hate noise. Well, a small exaggeration. I hate noisy neighbours that have sex at three in the morning, like who the hell wants to wake up that early to...you know,  _do the dirty?_  Hell, maybe it's been so long since I've had a relationship that I just have no clue." She shook her head.

"I was talking about my good week, wasn't I?" Al backtracked. Talking about her neighbours having sex early in the morning apparently makes her less tense. "Yeah. I was asked out on a date the other day, too." She felt a smile prod at her lips and a flutter settle in her stomach when she thought about Natasha. "I haven't been asked out in years- actually, that's a lie. I get asked out quite a lot the times I go out to bars, but I don't ever accept. Especially if it's a blind date or someone I know is trying to set me up, then I know it's gonna be a night full of bowel movements. Um, talking about bowel movements. Not..." She shook her head. "What I'm trying to say is that I've had more bad dates than good. But, well, I have hope for this one. I hope it goes well anyway." Alaina pulled the final stitch through Stranger's skin and tied it off in a neat knot. "Speaking of going well, your stitches are done."

Alaina looked up and saw the shadow of the man's eyebrow pull down. "A... date?" he asked slowly. So, he  _was_  listening to her.

"Yeah," Al answered. "Like when two people who are into each other go out somewhere. Usually to a cinema or something else mildly romantic."

Stranger's mouth opened like he wanted to say something else, but he didn't. Al almost sighed in disappointment. He just asked her a  _question_ , didn't just shrug or mutter a word under his breath. It was progress if anything.

"Do you want a bandage?" she asked as she stood up from her knelt position.

"No," he replied, apparently a lot more talkative now. "Do you... My head hurts."

"Oh. I'll grab you Tylenol. It's pretty common to have a headache after being shot in the stomach."

"No drugs," he said, making Al stop in her tracks.  _Very_  talkative. "Don't..." He brought his hand up and rubbed his eyes. "I don't remember... anything."

 _Memory loss?_  Al wondered. "Hey," she spoke gently. She knelt back down slowly as to not startle Stranger and placed a hesitant hand on the arm rubbing insistently at his eyes. He flinched when she made contact with his right arm but didn't pull away. Or strangle her. "It'll make your headache worse if you keep thinking about what you can't remember. Stress causes a rise in blood pressure which can reopen your wound, okay? I'll get you a glass of water and then you can rest. Or you can leave, it's up to you." She removed her hand from his arm. Stranger visibly relaxed. "I'll be right back. Gonna grab an ice-pack, too."

Alaina got the water first and placed the glass on the table in front of Stranger, not before taking a swig so he didn't think she was trying to drug him. She returned to the kitchen and realised that she didn't even own an ice-pack - who had a bag of medical supplies but  _not_  an ice-pack? - so she grabbed a beer instead, holding it against her neck. Al glanced over at the man and saw that he was sat up on the couch, elbows resting on his knees and head in his hands. Must have been one hell of a headache.

She quietly told him that she was going into her bedroom to change and informed him that she wouldn't try to call the police while she was in there. He grunted in response which Al took as an ' _okay'_.

Al decided not to shut the door behind it as it would arouse suspicion, but she closed it half-way anyway. The power was still out - did Stranger cut it? she wondered - so she grabbed her phone off the nightstand and used the torch to light up the room. She moved around her bed and stood in front of her desk, leaning over the furniture slightly to get a closer look at her mirror. She placed the cold beer on the desk and turned the phone around, using the flashlight to get a good look at her neck.

It was easy to tell that it was a person who inflicted the injury so excusing it on something else was out of the picture. The left side of her neck had a single mark where his thumb had pressed into her windpipe and the right side had four identical marks from his fingers, all of them puffy and an angry red. Meaning that it was definitely going to bruise in a few hours,  _meaning_  that she'd have to wear a scarf or turtleneck for the next week, for her date with Natasha. Couldn't have picked a better time to be nearly killed.

She didn't even  _own_  a turtleneck, for fuck's sake.

Sighing, Alaina turned off the flashlight and checked the time, seeing that it was 3:41 a.m. Underneath the time was the notification that she got a new voicemail from an unsaved number. Weird. Only Sam and her dad called her.

She unlocked the device and held it to her ear as she played the message.

" _Uh, hey. It's Steve Rogers_." Well, that's a relief. Not another murderer, just a killer of ladies. " _I thought about what you said about writing things down... You know, turning the bad memories into good ones. I've done a few pages in a journal now and, you said I didn't have to show it to anyone but it feels like I need to show to someone, so... Well, I guess I want you to read it? I know it was a bit rocky the other night and I understand if you don't want to read it, but... the offer's there, I guess? Uh, call back when you have the time_." There was a pause. " _And I want to apologise what happened the other night, I know Tony wants to, too, but I'm guessing you already know what he's like. Doesn't like admitting he was wrong but he knows he was when he snapped at you. Stone bringing up Riley threatening to take away your ranks... I would have reacted the same. Soldier to soldier. Anyway, I'll, uh, leave you to it. Call me back when you have the time, Alaina. Thank you_." The voicemail ended.

He sent it only 10 minutes ago. Was he awake?

Deciding to test her luck, Alaina hit the call button on his number.

He picked up after two rings.

" _Hi_ ," he breathed. " _I didn't wake you, right?_ "

"No, no," Alaina reassured the super soldier, keeping her volume low. "I've been awake for a few hours now, couldn't get to sleep." She picked up the beer bottle and held it against her neck, almost hissing when it touched the inflamed skin. "You wanted to talk about your journal?"

"Oh, right, yeah," Steve said. He sounded bashful. "I mean, it's up to you if you want to read it, I just-"

"Steve," she cut him off, softly laughing. "You don't have to explain yourself to me, it's your journal. Your memories, not mine. When do you want to meet up?"

" _I was thinking that I could drop by your work tomorrow- well, in a few hours._ " Alaina's heart dropped to her stomach. " _Sam told me that you're free most of the day unless you have to talk to some of the students. Or if you're in a meeting or something, I have no clue how school's work these days._ " He chuckled tiredly.

Alaina was planning to just take the day off tomorrow since she, well, had an injured man in her apartment and finger marks around her neck. Taking the day off in her first week would be suspicious enough, but saying no to Steve when he wanted help? It might not come across as strange to him but if he told Sam, Sam would know that something was immediately off. And if Sam was suspicious, he might ask Tony to hack into CCTV nearby or  _something_...

This has been such a shit week. And it's not even the weekend.

"Yeah, that's perfect, Steve."  _No, that's not perfect Steve._  "Some of the kids usually have lunch in my office so before or after then should be okay, as long as I put up a sign saying that I'm busy. Meetings are usually on Mondays so I doubt they'll spring one from nowhere. Just give me a time and I'll tell you where to go."

"I'll text you tomorrow," Steve said. "I think I'm gonna try and get some shut-eye. Thanks for... you know,  _everything_."

"Don't thank me yet, Steve," she returned. "I might be the worst person to come to but you just don't know it yet."

"Got it," he laughed. "Goodnight, Alaina. See you tomorrow."

"Catch you later, Steve."

She hung up and groaned in frustration.

Deciding to check on her criminal friend, Alaina threw her phone on her messy bed and walked out of her bedroom.

But there was no sign of the man.

Stranger was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this at 3 a.m. while re-watching Civil War so me writing down Steve thinking of Tony made me start crying. Why am I like this.
> 
> Here's a Gay Update™: I watched Oceon's 8 and came to the conclusion that Cate Blanchett can fuck my shit up in a non-sexual way and I would still thank her, and I would let Rihanna clock me in the throat. Despite this, I'm still single. I wonder why? I also don't know why I chose this chapter title, I was thinking about How To Get With Murder. WHY ISN'T SEASON 4 ON NETFLIX???
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


	16. Books & Bonding

**_Alaina_ **

After chugging her fifth cup of coffee, Al realised how much of a fucking moron she was.  _Hi, my name is Alaina and don't worry if you nearly kill me! I'll happily help you out and use half of my medical supplies on you!_

The scarf around her neck was scratching her already sore throat. She was lucky it was chilly outside and that the heating inside the school was broken, just like everything else in the godforsaken building, because it would look weird seeing a grown woman wearing a scarf to work in the heat. New York weather was unpredictable,  _just like when someone breaks into her apartment_.

Maybe it didn't even happen?

She was convinced she was going insane.

Maybe it was simply due to her sleep deprivation hitting because she was thinking too hard about Frank?

Yeah, just blame it on Frank.

"You good, teach?" MJ asked. Her body was turned on the chair she was occupying, neck craned so she could look at the older woman.

"I'm fine, Michelle," Alaina replied, staying focused on the papers in front of her. When she signed up for this job, she didn't realise how many students would ask her to grade mock papers in preparation for the final year. It was annoying, especially since half the teachers didn't want to give her the mark scheme, but it was better than sitting around and doing nothing."Get back to doing your work. Peter, stop making paper aeroplanes and Ned, get off your phone. You weren't let out of PE to do nothing."

"Ears like a hawk," Ned whispered.

"A hawk who just got stuck in a plane engine," MJ said. "Seriously, you just drank about forty cups of coffee and your limit is usually, like, twenty. What's up?"

The trio of friends had arranged the desks in her classroom to form a larger table in the middle, where their schoolwork was scattered, although they were barely glancing over at it. Al found herself letting the students into her classroom whenever they were free, and if she didn't have the classroom - because it was only hers when one of the English teachers Ms. Morrow didn't have class - then she let them into her office. Her office was pretty big and had a two-by-two table pushed in the corner. MJ had a pass that let her leave class whenever she wanted so Al saw the girl a lot in her free time, and because half the year had the choice to go to PE due to their age, she also saw a lot of Peter and Ned, who she was introduced to not long after meeting Peter. And if they didn't feel like going to the hall for lunch, they would huddle in the office and eat there instead.

"If I tell you that I added tequila to my coffee, will you hush it and finish your week-late assignment?" Alaina asked, scoring the final grade on Lilly's, one of her quieter students, paper. She circled the B+ twice in red ink, added a little smiley face and ' _well done_ ' next to it. Al wished she could take that happy face and put it on herself.

"You mean the assignment that you helped me finish yesterday?" MJ asked.

"No, the one that Mrs. Warren set you a month ago," Al muttered. "The one that she needs in today so she can mark it over the weekend and give it to you for Monday."

"Already handed in, teach," MJ gave a closed-lipped smile. "So..."

The bell rang loudly, interrupting her.

"Put the desks back where they were before you moved them," Al ordered, stuffing the small stack of tests in her binder. "And don't barge into my office at lunch, I have a meeting and don't know how long it's going to go on for."

Peter pouted with his eyebrows drawn together and nodded, Ned gave a bright wave to Alaina which she returned with a smile, and MJ gave the peace sign before closing the door behind her.

Alaina blew out a puff of air, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palm.

Just a few more hours and then you're done for your first week. Oh, and you've got your date with Natasha tomorrow. No biggie.

* * *

Al was sat in her comfortable chair marking papers half-heartedly. MJ got an E on her biology exam so Al would have to talk her about it. She couldn't lie; she was concerned about the girl. She was failing every class apart from Art and Al had heard things from other teachers that were more than concerning, but none of them seemed to care. Astrid Berry, the tutor who showed Alaina around the school on her first day, always felt the need to tell other people's business to literally everyone who happened to be in the break room. Al usually blocked it out and rolled her eyes with Kath, an English teacher she made friends with on the second day, but when she heard MJ's name, Al couldn't help it.  _I'm surprised that Michelle girl hasn't been in a fight this week. Isn't she, like, adopted? I'm pretty sure she's being abused or something._

Yeah, Astrid was an asshole.

The telephone on her desk ringing made her jump in her seat. Sighing and mentally preparing herself for whoever was calling her, Alaina answered.

"Alaina Gunley speaking," she greeted in a tired voice. "Who is this?"

" _It's Amanda from the front office_ ," the caller said. " _I have a Roger Stevens saying that he has a meeting with you. Would you like me to direct him to your office?_ "

"Yes, please," Al said, almost laughing out loud at the name he came up with. "Thanks, Amanda."

Steve's head popped through her door around 2 minutes later as Al cleared her desk of any papers, shoving the unfinished ones in one of the drawers.

"Roger Stevens?" Alaina asked when he sat down on the seat opposite hers. "Very inconspicuous. I'm sure your spy friends would be proud."

"Weren't you technically a spy?" Steve questioned, rubbing his hands together.

"Fair point," Al agreed, leaning back in her chair. She glanced down and noted that Steve's fingers kept fumbling together, his eyes staring at something on the desk rather than her. "You don't have to do this, you know." He looked up and Al managed a comforting smile. "We don't have to look through your journal if you don't want to. I understand since you don't know me that well but I'm guessing that's why you'd rather show it to me than someone you're closer to, like Sam? Anyway, I get it. I can tell you're nervous. We can just..." she searched for the right words, "hang out if you want?"

"No," Steve said, shaking his head politely. "I appreciate it, Alaina, but this is something I just need to do." His lip quirked. "I can see why you and Sam are so close now."

"How's that?" Al asked, eyebrows drawn in curiosity.

"When I was pulled out of the ice, I wasn't a person," Steve started with a sad smile. "I was an experiment, a miracle. My therapist wasn't even a therapist, she was just there to gather intel for S.H.I.E.L.D. and make sure I was mentally fit to become an Avenger. I mean, I was... I had no family to go to, I thought my best friend was dead, Peggy was-" he cut himself off, shaking his head. Alaina felt her heart hurt for him. "Point is, no one cared about that. Tony was the only one I could really talk to because he reminded me of Howard a lot, Natasha was too secretive and I didn't trust her for a while, and the rest... I don't know." Steve shrugged. "When I met Sam, something changed, I guess. He looked at me and saw Steve Rogers the person, not the war hero. Well," he laughed, "you were definitely a lot more excited to see me than Sam." Alaina flushed brightly, remembering how flustered she was when she first met him. "But you got over it pretty fast," he added quickly. "I don't really know where I'm going with this. I'm just... trying to say that you and Sam are the same when it comes to other people. You care too much."

 _Tell me about it_ , Al wanted to say.

"Anyway, here you go." Steve grabbed something from his coat pocket and slid it over the desk to Al. "I was planning on just giving it to you and leaving," that meant he didn't want to be there when she went through it, made sense, "but... do you want to grab lunch or anything?" he asked. "If you're free, of course."

"I can't leave for another," Al's eyes flickered to the clock behind Steve, "20 minutes, unfortunately. I'd love to, though, Steve."

"That's okay," Steve reassured. "I don't mind staying here for a while."

Al gave a small smile. "I've got to finish marking but feel free to read some books," she suggested, gesturing to the bookshelf on her left. "It's mostly textbooks that the students collect if they forget theirs. There are a few novels on the top shelf."

Steve nodded his head in thanks and stood up, facing away from Alaina as his fingers grazed the spines of the books. She slid the leather-bound journal in her bag and pulled out the remaining three Science papers, which were thankfully easier to mark than the English analysis ones. The mark schemes were  _much_  clearer.

"Do you read a lot?" Steve asked after a minute or so of silence.

"Used to," Al replied, glancing up at the man to see that he was holding a copy of a book in his hands. "Especially in the army when it was mostly waiting around and doing nothing." Steve hummed in response and flipped the book to read the blurb. Al saw that it was  _Goodnight Mister Tom_  by Michelle Magorian. "Good book, that. Set in the 30s, during the outbreak of World War 2 in Britain. It was published around 50 years later if I remember rightly. Made me weep like a baby the first time I read it. I think they made a movie out of it."

Steve looked at Al with a questioning gaze. "A book buff, huh?" he asked.

"Everyone has their talents, mine just happens to be knowing about every book published in the 20th century," she replied with an airy shrug. "I can probably find a good few that you'll like. Have you read any of the classics, like...  _1984_  or  _To Kill A Mockingbird_?"

"Yeah," he said with a small grin. "Tony said it was a crime that I haven't read  _The Great Gatsby_."

"Wasn't a fan of that one, if I'm honest," Al admitted.

"Me neither," Steve agreed. "Didn't want to crush his dreams and tell him, though. Big personality, bigger ego."

Al laughed and agreed, and the two fell into an easy conversation. She paused her marking to talk about her favourites and Steve listened intently, nodding while still flickering through the bookshelf. She raved about  _Rebecca_  by Daphne du Maurier and Game of Thrones - Steve said Sam was trying to force him to watch the show and Al encouraged him to at least read the books first since they were better in her opinion. Steve then asked about Peter and she said as much as she could without breaking confidentiality, mentioning that his grades and attendance were way up there without talking about his Aunt's sudden illness..

Alaina almost forgot about her shitty week completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


	17. Best Friend Talk

**_Natasha_ **

It was Saturday morning and Natasha was decked out in her gym clothes, waiting for her coffee to brew when Sam found her. Like Clint, Sam usually paraded around the Tower in the clothes he slept in and would only change if The Avengers had to be assembled or if he was going out, so the grown man was wearing a pair of sweats and a plain black shirt. It was better than Clint who slept in only boxers. He once walked into Natasha's room, not realising that he was fully naked. Waking up and seeing  _that_...

Natasha shuddered at the memory.

"Morning," the assassin greeted. It was 7 a.m. so Steve would be finishing his morning run, Tony and Clint will be passed out until noon, Wanda and Vision were likely doing whatever married couples do, and Bruce will be reading the morning paper with a cup of green tea on his own floor. They all had routines that they mostly stuck to, like Natasha always found herself leaning against the counter tiredly as she waited for Jarvis to make her mug of caffeine. "Surprised you're up this early."

Yeah, well," Sam shrugged, rubbing his shoulder as she stretched, "thought I'd catch you before your date with Al."

Natasha looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Is this the part you tell me you'll kill me if I hurt her?" she asked.

"Nah," Sam shook his head. "I'm sure you've already got that by now. Plus, you scare the shit out of me and I'm sure you'd break something inside my body if I actually threatened you." He contemplated for a moment. "I'm not sure who scares me more; you or Al."

"Scary is the last word I'd use to describe Alaina," Natasha said, partly curious. There was a definitely a switch in character the night at the gala, both when she spoke to Tiberius and on the rooftop when she basically shouted at Steve and Tony.

"She used to be a Sargent, Nat," Sam pointed out. "She was pretty damn terrifying. I remember this one new kid, he was 18 and just started, pointed out the fact that her last name was  _Gunley_  and she was holding a gun. Started laughing with the other recruits and then, uh, got a  _lil_ bit sexist. Long story short, she threw a decoy grenade at them in the field and humiliated them in front of pretty much the entire squad, including the commanders, when they started screaming and crying. The General threatened to demote her to Corporal but they didn't, and things ended good since no one made fun of her again." He paused for a moment. "I don't know what the moral of that story was."

"That she's intimidating?" Natasha offered. She'd have to ask Alaina about that. Her life in the army was probably more interesting than Natasha's time at S.H.I.E.L.D. "And weren't you going to give me the talk?"

"Putting it like that sounds really weird and creepy," Sam said. "But... I don't have to give you, like,  _the talk_ , right? You're going to be dating my best friend, so-"

"Sam," Natasha cut off, wincing. "Please don't finish that sentence. For my sake and yours."

"Right, sorry," Sam cleared his throat. "But seriously. Al isn't... well, I'm sure you know she isn't the most stable person. She isn't crazy or anything but war changes people, and she was in a secret government agency that she can't even tell me about because she'll probably be assassinated or something." Natasha frowned, giving a small nod to encourage him to keep going. "She's been on dates, had month-long relationships in college, a  _lot_  of one-night stands..."

"TMI, Sam."

"... but she's never really been happy when it comes to," he waved his hands around, " _that_. There was this guy a few years ago, he... no, actually. It's my business to tell you."

"I'm guessing a bad relationship?" Natasha asked.

"Not a relationship, but... yeah," Sam nodded. He paused, looking thoughtful for a moment like he was deciding what to say. "I like you, Natasha. Since the day you and Steve ran into my house all bloody and dirty, you've been a good friend to me, even if I can be a reckless asshole sometimes." Natasha smiled. Sam always had the tendency to jump head-first into things without thinking. "But I care more about Al. She's the most important person in my life, so I need you to promise me that you're not going to use her for a few months and then dump her. If it doesn't work out that's fine, that's life, but don't you dare lead her on, Nat. I'm putting it on record, right now," he slapped the countertop, "that... Actually, I don't know. Insert threat here, I guess."

Natasha wanted to reassure him that she wasn't planning on using Alaina or leading her on, but actions spoke much louder than words. She knew what it was like being protective of a friend. If anyone even dared to hurt Clint, she wouldn't threaten them with just words.

"I'm giving you free range to do whatever you want to me if I hurt her."

"Good," Sam smiled, the serious expression disappearing. "I'm glad that's over with, I hate being all serious with people. Al always says I'm a huge wimp."

"Can't disagree with her there," Natasha laughed. The more Sam spoke of Alaina, the more she was looking forward to the date.

"This is bullying at its finest," Sam said. " _And_  I want to hear all about the date you have planned."

* * *

_**Alaina** _

The electricity was back on, which Al could not be more thankful for since she had her date tonight. She guessed that Stranger didn't blow the fuse like she thought, but it was probably due to the 100-year-old building she inhabited.

Man, she couldn't wait to move out. Even if she was going to feel like she was in high school again living with her dad.

It was 2 p.m. and Alaina was sat watching  _Xena: The Warrior Princess_ , wearing a vintage Power Rangers shirt and a pair of baggy shorts when the door knocked. She had a tub of Ben & Jerry's Phish Food cooling her thighs and a lukewarm beer sat on the table in front of her, not realising she was going t have company. Unless, of course, it was Stranger standing on the other side of the door.

Groaning to herself, Al stabbed the spoon inside the ice cream and set it on the table. It was probably just Sam wanting to annoy her, as per usual.

When she got up and opened the door...

"Clint?" she asked, surprised that the grinning man was at her apartment with no company. No Sam or Natasha. "What are, uhh...?"

"Woah, what happened to your neck?" he asked, hands resting on each of her shoulders to get a good look.

 _Shit_ , she completely forgot about the bruises. "Oh, some asshole tried mugging me on my way back from school yesterday," Al lied smoothly. Her time in special ops was certainly coming in handy, being able to lie on the spot. "Caught me off guard but I got the better of him."

"Ah, so I should see the other guy?" Clint said, thankfully not catching on.

"Yeah," she muttered, stepping back to hold the door open. "Um, come in." Clint stepped through and Al closed the door behind him, watching for a moment as he looked around her apartment. Was he searching for something?

"Good combo," he commented, pointing to the beer and ice cream. "And of course you watch Xena. Nice shirt, too." He nodded to her Power Rangers shirt with a smirk and then reached down to grab her beer. He took a swig and licked his lips, an unpleasant expression on his face. "That's like..."

"Cheap?" Alaina tried.

"There's the bottom shelf stuff," Clint said, looking at the alcohol like it hurt him. "This is lower than bottom shelf. This is like... from a cellar. It's times like this I appreciate Stark's expensive taste."

"Thanks," Al said flatly. "Can I... ask why you're here? Not that I don't appreciate the company, but..."

"Right," Clint muttered, shaking his head. Probably got distracted from the woman's less-than-ideal drink and apartment. "Get dressed. We're going to the Tower."

"What?" Al asked, her eyebrows pulled down. "I have a date in, like..."

"6 hours, Al," Clint finished for her. "Don't worry; Tash is out with Steve so she'll be gone for a few hours. The only people there are me, Sam, Tony and Brucie." He clapped her shoulders, grinning from ear-to-ear.

"Dude, I'm... Why do you want me to go?" she asked with suspicion lacing her tone. Was there going to be some kind of surprise party? Even though her birthday was months away.

"Get dressed," he repeated, ignoring her hesitance. "Bring the stuff you want for the date. I'll wait outside."

And then Clint was out of the door.

What the fuck just happened?

* * *

When they arrived at the Tower, Alaina was still lost as to why she was there. Why wasn't Sam picking her up if they wanted her at the Tower? Natasha wasn't there so what else could it be related to?

What if... oh, shit. Maybe they knew about Stranger? Oh god, it made too much sense. Why Clint was looking around her apartment and he saw her bruises. What if she actually housed some kind of psycho criminal that was actually on the Avengers watch-list?

Instead of telling Jarvis to go to one of the upper floors, Clint ordered the AI to go to the garage. Al's heart was hammering against her chest.

" _Are you okay, Miss Gunley?"_  Jarvis asked, sounding strangely concerned for a computer. " _Your heart rate is steadily increasing and your hands are trembling. Would you like a warm beverage to calm you down?"_

Al looked down at her hands and saw that they were in fact shaking. Clint noticed too and pulled a concerned look, turning his body to face her. "You don't have to worry about anything, Alaina," he reassured. Al chewed her lip. Clint was too nice to her. When he asked why she was covering up the bruise on her neck, she said that she didn't want Sam to worry, so Clint pretty much announced that he would do the worrying for Sam. "You're not in trouble or anything, you know."

"I'm... I'm fine, Clint. Thanks." Al managed a smile. She was overreacting. How would they even know that Stranger was in her apartment? "Not a big fan of surprised, that's all." Technically  _not_  a lie. When Sam, his dad and Al's dad tried throwing Al a surprise party for her 16th, she cried and then when Sam laughed, she accidentally broke his nose... 'accidentally'.

"Do you, uh... actually want a warm beverage or anything?" Clint asked. "Bruce has a cupboard full of herbal teas that keep him chilled out."

"I'll be okay," Al laughed softly. Clint nodded but his concern didn't die down.

The elevator doors opened and Alaina's nervousness suddenly disappeared because...  _holy shit_.

Okay, Al was very much a car person. Ever since she was a kid and saw her neighbour's yellow Bentley, Al grew obsessed with cars and learned almost everything there was to learn about vehicles, including bikes. Her family - well, her and her dad - didn't have the most money since her dad's English wasn't the best, so she got a little Ford Fiesta for her 17th. The car only lasted two years before the engine exploded due to its old condition, but that didn't mean she didn't love every minute she spent in that car. For a few years before she left for the army, Alaina worked in a car dealership which meant she was practically surrounded by beautiful cars every day. She loved fixing them up and staring at them as her coworkers worked on their own.

So, stepping into Tony Stark's garage was like stepping into her wet dream.

Clint didn't notice Al staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the cars as he led her through the garage, between the rows of cars. She saw a Bugatti, Lamborghini, a Lykan Hypersport...  _even a $13 million Rolls-Royce_. Al wanted nothing more than to stop and admire them.

She almost crashed into Clint's back when he suddenly stopped. Al looked at him in confusion and saw that he was wearing an expectant look on his face, nodding to his left between two Ferraris.

"What...?" she trailed off, seeing that Tony Stark was leaning against a pretty motorbike with Sam stood next to him, both wearing huge grins. "I'm confused."

"Okay, so," Sam started, walking forward to hold Al's shoulders, "I know you're gonna argue against this because a) you hate surprised and b) you hate being given expensive stuff, so a combination of the two will send you into a giant panic attack."

"You... You didn't buy me a million dollar car, right?" she asked. That would be  _way_  too much to deal with.

"No, of course not," Tony butted in, scoffing. "I have good taste. I bought you a $5 million custom-designed Ecosse bike, fit just for you." He patted the bike's leather seat and stood up, waiting for the woman's reaction.

"You didn't." She stared incredulously at the billionaire over Sam's shoulder.

"Yup. I did." He nodded. "But Sam's trying to take all the credit."

"Because it was my idea," Sam argued, releasing Al's shoulders.

"Wait, wait," Al interrupted, pointing at Tony. "You actually got me a $5 million bike?"

"Custom design and everything," Tony said. When Al stared at him with her mouth hanging up, he cleared his throat and his eyes flickered to Sam. "Is she okay? She doesn't look okay. She might be going into cardiogenic shock."

"Alaina?" Clint asked next to her.

"You actually got me a bike?" Al asked.

"The answer isn't going to change no matter how times you ask the question, you know that, right?" Tony replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Holy  _shit_ ," she breathed, a huge smile taking over her face. Tony sighed in relief. "Oh, my god." She brushed past Sam and ran a hand over the cold handlebars of the bike, looking at the machine in awe.

"Why don't you take it out for a ride, babe?" Sam suggested. Alaina complied almost immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So because my laptop's keyboard keeps breaking, I have to attach a separate one to my laptop but some of the keys are broken, so pretty much every time I wrote 'Clint' it turned into 'Clit' and I apologise sincerely if I missed out one of the clits (don't quote me on that).
> 
> Next chapter is finally the date! You know it's going to be a slowburn when the first date happens 100 pages in (AND WE JUST HIT 100 PAGES!). Because I want the date to flow nicely without a few day's break in between, I'll be making the next chapter longer which means that the update might be a week from now, however, the chapter will be longer which is good!


	18. A Night Under The Stars

_**Natasha** _

"No, Sam-"

"Why not?"

"I'm not wearing a pink fucking  _beret_ with a grey flannel. Why the hell do you even have a pink beret? I swear, where's Clint to keep you in check?"

Natasha smiled as she approached the arguing friends that sounded more like a couple. She would have felt jealous if it was anyone else but Sam.

Surprisingly, Natasha wasn't feeling nervous about the date like she was when she asked Alaina. Sure, she put on a flirty and slightly cocky front in the classroom, but in reality, she was shaking on the inside, scared if she was going to get rejected (and mentally coming up with plans to torture and then murder Sam and Clint). Her heart almost burst with happiness when Alaina pulled that little smile and said yes. Clint literally screamed in happiness when Natasha told him, which led to Jarvis believing that he was hurt, which then led to Steve, Tony, Wanda, Vision and Sam rushing to their floor, Steve holding his shield and Tony in his Iron Man armour. She calmly explained the situation while Clint was bouncing up and down on his heels with a giant grin, and then The Avengers lost their shit. Well, Tony and Sam lost their shit. The rest reacted normally.

Tony squealed like a girl and immediately started asking if she wanted him to rent out a cinema or the whole of Rhode Island - she had to remind him that you can't just rent islands - while Sam called Alaina and just... screamed down the line. Steve shook his head and told them to give them a break with his serious face on, and Clint, Sam and Tony pouted like children. But he did say that he knew it was going to happen when they all calmed down, much to Stark's amusement. Vision said that they would a beautiful couple and Wanda winked, telepathically telling her that they would talk later.

Natasha had the perfect date planned out, credit to Sam for telling her what Alaina liked, and she was excited. It must have been years since she'd been out with someone romantically, and judging by the way Alaina talked she was in the same boat.

"Sam, it's a  _date_ , not a wedding."

"Give it a few years and we'll see," Natasha said, stepping forward to join the conversation.

Alaina practically beamed when she turned to look at the red-head, looking like a love-struck dork. "Tell this guy who's asking if I'd wear a dress or suit," she pointed her thumb at Sam.

Natasha gave a closed-lipped smile, shaking her head. "Not even had our first date yet, Sam. Maybe wait until the fifth." She didn't realise that she suggested there would be more dates until Sam threw his hands out cockily, a smirk on his face. "But our chariot awaits," she said to Alaina.

The woman nodded with a nervous smile, wiping her palms over her jeans. "Clint told me we're not going out to dinner which is just, already the best date," she said. "Can you tell me where we're actually going because no one else is telling me? I even asked Bruce and he wouldn't crack."

"Gotta wait and see," Natasha raised an eyebrow with a side-smile. "C'mon." Alaina shook her head in amusement and went to follow Natasha to the elevator, but she stopped and turned, holding her finger up. "Wait." She produced a black cloth from her pocket. "First, we need to..."

Alaina gaped. "You're going to  _blindfold_  me?!" She turned to Sam with an accusatory glint in her eye. "You know I hate surprises."

"Oh, babe, you'll love this one."

Alaina grumbled under her breath but turned around anyway, giving Natasha silent permission to tie the cloth around her eyes. "You know, if this was any situation without my best friend present, I would call this very kinky."

Natasha brushed a hand across the nape of her neck as she fastened the blindfold securely. Goosebumps arose where she made contact and Alaina's breath hitched. "Maybe on date three?" she suggested teasingly, leaning close to whisper in her ear. "Guess we'll see how this one goes."

"Oh, my god," Sam groaned. "Leave room for Jesus, guys!"

"Leaving room for the ghost and holy spirit too, Sammy," Alaina huffed a laugh, hands straight out as she tried to manoeuvre herself to the elevator.

Natasha shook her head with a smile, nodded goodbye at Sam and then wrapped her arm around the dip of Alaina's waist. The woman jumped, clearly startled, but accepted it nonetheless, doing the same but resting her hand close to Natasha's hip instead.

Since they were only on the second floor, they made it to the front lobby rather quickly and Natasha led her outside into the cold. Natasha was wearing a simple hoodie and Alaina had a scarf wrapped around her neck and a leather jacket, which Natasha had to admit looked hot. The sleeves were cuffed halfway up her arm and the bottom reached just where Natasha's hand was resting. She realised how tall the woman was compared to her, probably 5'10 compared to Natasha's 5'7, even though 5'7 was decently tall for a woman.

Clint told her that Alaina had been mugged and had a bruise around her neck, and she wanted to keep it covered so Sam wouldn't worry. Clint believed it but Natasha thought that something was slightly off about it. It was probably just her spy mind coming up with the worst-case scenarios.

Natasha walked her towards a fancy pickup truck that Stark lent her and told her to sit down and put on her seat belt. Alaina did so as Natasha moved to the other side to get into the driver's seat. She started the engine, put her foot on the pedal, turned on the CD player to classic rock songs - which Sam stated was her favourite genre - and then they were on their way to their official date.

"You know, this could easily be a ploy to murder me for knowing so much intel and I'd have no idea," Alaina said, her feet propped up on the dashboard. It was the most relaxed Natasha had ever seen her. "I knew a pretty girl would lead to my demise."

"You think I'm pretty?" Natasha asked, unable to hide her huge smile.

"Well, you have literally  _no_  physical imperfections," Alaina's head bobbed subconsciously to the music. "I remember when your posters first came out, I assumed it was all photoshop and editing, so when Sam basically forced me to meet everyone, my dumb ass was like 'oh, they're all probably ugly', but nope. Steve Rogers is beautiful, Clint Barton is beautiful, Tony Stark is... well, a bit of a dick but still beautiful." Natasha let out a laugh. "I remember seeing part of your head and nearly having a panic attack. Imagine if I actually died, right? That would be the weirdest tombstone ever."

"' _Death by back of head'_ ," Natasha proposed. "It could be interpreted in many ways."

Alaina snorted. "Watch some assholes turn it into 'death by head'. It's wrong... On so many levels."

"At least you'll be sticking to the gay status quo."

"Oh, my  _god_ , Natasha," Alaina simultaneously laughed and groaned. "That was a both a reference to gay sex  _and_  High School Musical, which are two things that should be completely separated from each other. How could you taint my childhood like this?"

"I could always talk about taint..."

"No!" Alaina stifled a laugh, bringing her fist up to her mouth. "Nasty." She pointed at Natasha but missed the mark by a few inches due to her lack of sight. "That's nasty. No one told me you were this nasty."

Natasha laughed and they continued talking, although it was mostly Alaina groaning and laughing while Natasha made dumb jokes. She wanted to make dumb jokes for hours, just to continue hearing the genuine and heartfelt laughs Alaina was making. Natasha couldn't help it.

They made it to the location a half hour later. The engine shut off and Alaina's ears perked.

"Are we there?" she asked.

"Yup, but you gotta stay there for a few minutes until I've sorted everything out. No peeking."

Alaina let out an exaggerated groan as Natasha climbed out of the vehicle.

When talking to Sam about Alaina, he said that she once told him, when she was drunk, that her dream date would be under the stars as cheesy as it sounded. She wanted to lay on a blanket with music playing quietly in the background and breadsticks in a basket sitting in front of her, of course with beer perched in a cooler.

So Natasha made that dream into a reality.

Tony rented out a huge car park for the night and the place was completely secluded. It was miles away from the closest main road and no one would be able to drive through since it was reserved, so Natasha parked the pickup truck smack bang in the middle of the huge concrete space. She pulled out everything from the back of the pickup and started setting it all down. The back of the pickup was just an empty space where things would typically be thrown, essentially a large boot without the roof. She threw two blankets over the empty space and a bunch of pillows around the sides so it would be comfortable for them to sit on, and then added an extra blanket they could huddle under if it got too cold. She set the cooler down in the corner and a packet of breadsticks on top of it, propping a few extra pillows against the back of the boot for added comfort.

Natasha was proud of the set-up. It looked like something from a rom-com film.

"Are you done yet?" Alaina shouted.

Natasha chuckled, shaking her head. "Hold your horses," she muttered, walking to the side of the car where Alaina was seated. She opened the door and leaned over the woman to release her seat belt, and then helped her get out of the pickup. "You okay?" she asked when Alaina stumbled slightly.

"I'm blindfolded with an assassin leading me to a mysterious location," she responded, grabbing onto Natasha's outstretched arm. "If there's a giant meat grinder in front of me, you know, the massive ones in the ground that crush cars and stuff, I'm dragging you down with me. Just a pre-warning. I don't want you to die or anything, but..."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "You can take off the blindfold now."

Alaina ripped the thing from her head, blinking furiously as she adjusted to the light. The sun was close to setting so there was a pretty orange hue climbing up over the horizon.

Natasha bit her lip to stop her smile as Alaina's eyes widened dramatically, looking like a cartoon. "You fucking didn't," she breathed. "Are you serious? Am I awake right now?" She looked at Natasha brightly.

"I'm afraid so," she said, raising her eyebrows expectantly. "You don't have to stand and stare at it, you know."

They settled down in the trunk; Alaina leaning back against one side and Natasha in front of her, the sides of their legs brushing, both under the blanket. Natasha grabbed two beers from the cooler, handed one to Alaina who looked like she was seeing God, and then set the bag of breadsticks on the blanket between them. Alaina popped the cap off her beer with her thumb which impressed Natasha, and after a thoughtful moment handed it to Natasha. She gave hers to Alaina and then she did the same thing, taking a hefty swig of the cold drink.

"I was lying before," Alaina whispered, thunking her head against the pillow behind her. "I'm definitely going to marry you. I think Clint technically married us before but I'm doing it for real. Vicar and everything."

"You'd have a vicar?" Natasha asked judgingly.

"Well." She thought for a moment. "I'd probably have Sam dress up as the vicar and then read those Catholic vows."

"I can surprisingly imagine him in a vicar outfit," Natasha hummed.

"Oh, it's kinda happened before," Alaina laughed, leaning forward to take a breadstick from the packet. "First year of college, Halloween. Sam decided to go to a dress-up party as a sexy nun." She took a bite of the breadstick, a quiet crunch interrupting her words. "It was all bare legs, bare chest, and stockings. He even asked me to wax him, for god's sake." She shuddered.

Natasha grinned. "And did you wax him?"

"Of course I did!" she replied, offended by the very notion that she would reject helping a friend like that. "He was actually trying to impress a girl. Thinking back on it now..."

"That's a strange way to get someone's attention," Natasha finished for her.

"But hey, at least he got her attention," Alaina said, already finished with her first breadstick. She took another swig of beer, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. "I think he was asked to be part of some gay BDSM club. I was far too drunk to remember. I'll have to ask him." She hummed. "What about you? Any fun stories with Clint?"

Natasha delved into a few stories, like that one time Thor took the remote on movie night and Clint tried getting it from him. He was a bit too drunk so he ended up sitting on the Norse God, who of course flung him off like a rag-doll, not quite realising his strength. Clint broke both of his arms and had to stay in the med bay for over a week, and Thor felt so guilty that he went into his room every day to bring him Poptarts. He wasn't even mad at the God; he played it up so he would get more free snacks without anyone complaining.

The sun had set and Natasha didn't even realise, upset with herself that she couldn't watch it with Alaina but the woman seemed more than happy anyway. They ended up laying down next to each other after a few hours, huddled underneath the blanket with their heads resting on the same pillow. They were pressed against one another, basking in each other's warmth, and Natasha's hand was lightly brushing against Alaina's under the thick cover, but neither made the move to hold hands. It was relaxing. There was no awkward blushing Alaina, and although Natasha  _liked_  awkward blushing Alaina, she felt like she was seeing the woman that Sam always raved on about. The woman who cared too much for other people. The woman who was always funny without knowing it. The woman who didn't realise how amazing she was.

Natasha turned her head on the pillow and watched as Alaina reminisced about a story in the army - something about her friend Riley had been flirting with Sam for weeks before realising that he was straight - taking in her features, the slight curve of her forehead, the straight bridge of her nose and the way her soft lips sometimes twitched into a smile when she talked. Her chin, her strong jaw, sharp cheekbones, and how her throat bobbed when she tried suppressing a grin.

Natasha shook with silent laughter when Alaina told her another loose anecdote. The back of her palm brushed against Alaina's, and in a moment of courage, Natasha entwined her fingers together. Alaina didn't cease telling her story, but her smile brightened and the corners of her eyes crinkled.

For the first time in a long time, Natasha felt at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually, like, I can't, it's so gay, I had this dumb smile on my face as I was writing. It's so cute and I honestly don't care what anyone else says because it made my heart swim with joy (especially the last few paragraphs).
> 
> This is actually really random and irrelevant but I should probably mention it just in case: I am British and I don't understand America. I've tried using the lingo in this story because it's set in America and Alaina is American but sometimes I just don't get it, so apologies for that (especially since the school system here is very different and much better than the one in America). But that's just assuming that most of you are from the US-of-A. Who knows, I might even have an international audience?
> 
> Tell me what you think!


	19. Acquaintances

_**Alaina** _

_"This terrain means," Major Schoonover gestured to one of the points on a map, where it looked like a base was being set up, "we won't be able to land around the compound without alerting the enemy, so we're gonna land here." He placed his finger a few miles West of the compound. "North of this ridge. Move in on foot. Once all three of our teams are in position, we'll hit the compound."_

_"No air support?" Billy asked, eyes darting to Frank and then Alaina. They were all thinking the same thing, that it was set up to fail._

_"This is a clandestine mission, Agent Russo," Agent Asshole, who was standing at the head of the table with his nose turned up like he was better than the three captains in the room, said. "Air support would negate that."_

_"With all due respect, sir, it feels like we're being thrown into the compound like bait waiting for the bigger fish to snatch us," Alaina added._

_"Are you a Major, Gunley?" Agent Asshole asked with agitation lacing his tone. "You are here to receive orders and carry them out as myself and Schoonover please."_

_"Sir, this looks like an ambush," Frank added his two cents, backing her up._

_"And what do you base that sound factual analysis on, Castle?" he asked. "This man has been a target for months. His whereabouts are finally confirmed. We're not gonna get this chance again."_

_"The terrain is a death trap, sir," Al stated, trying to keep her temper in check. "They call us the American Taliban, because we go in at night and people disappear. I've lost three of my men in the past year because we have fallen for traps like this, Castle and Russo have lost guys too, and I'm not willing to risk one more life because we've been given orders that we have to comply with without question. Our target wouldn't suddenly appear exactly where we wanted him to when he knows we're after him. They want us dead." Her eyes bored into his. "I know it's a trap because it's exactly what we would do if they were after us."_

_Agent Asshole exhaled slowly, nodding his head like he was taking in her criticism. Schoonover was the one that spoke, though. "Russo? Castle?" he asked, looking at the two men expectantly._

_"I trust Alaina's instincts, sir," Billy stated. Frank gave a small nod of agreement._

_"And I trust hard-earned, thoroughly vetted intelligence," Agent Asshole said. Al nearly growled at the man, but Frank's arm resting over her forearm kept her at bay. "I'll take my information over the vague notions of the war whisperer over here."_

_"War whisperer?" Al repeated. "I've spent more time out there fighting on_ your _orders that I have seeing my own family. While you and Major Schoonover - with all due respect to our Major for listening to our input - get to go home every other week to your wives and kids, your family. I haven't spoken to my father in 6 months. My_ sick _father who can barely look after himself because you keep sprouting fake promises of becoming war heroes when in reality we're nothing to you, we're expendable. How many men have been replaced since we joined this operation, sir? Can you even remember their names-"_

_"Wind it down, lieutenant," Major Schoonover cut in harshly, silencing Al. "Last I checked, none of you were in command. Prep your teams."_

_Billy sighed and Al clenched her jaw, breathing through her nose._

_"Sir, I think if we do this, men are gonna die," Frank told him quietly._

_"I pointed," Agent Asshole said dismissively. "Now you need to go shoot."_

_"Sir," Frank whispered._

_"Dust off at 2300," Schoonover commanded. "Now get the hell out of here."_

_"Roger," was all he said before storming out of the tent._

* * *

_"What do you think, Ally?" Frank asked her as they geared up. Billy, Frank and herself got their own tent where their weapons and outfits were lined up in lockers as they were captains and technically at a higher authority, while the other guys had their own giant tent to prep._

_"I think the guy that's giving us orders needs to fucking listen to us," Alaina muttered, pulling her bulletproof chest armour up her body. She secured the straps over her shoulders, making sure they were tight but not constricting. "I'm gonna tell my men to be more cautious, bring a few extra med-kits just in case." She scoffed. "Like that'll make a difference."_

_"We could send a scout ahead?" Billy suggested, throwing on his camo jacket._

_"Don't wanna risk any more of my guys if it's an ambush," Al disagreed. "How many people have we lost, Billy?" She shook her head, lips tightening. "Over a dozen men have died since we joined. I know it's war and people die, I've seen my fair share of death, but..."_

_"We're special ops," Frank finished for her. "S'all bullshit, that '_ we'll give you extra protection' _crap."_

_"I think we all got that now," Billy said. "We best haul ass."_

* * *

The date was perfect. Sure, it was a little cheesy but it didn't take away from the fact that it was one of the best nights of Alaina's life, and definitely the best date by far. So maybe Sam wasn't the  _worst_  matchmaker.

They ended up talking for hours, but time flew by so neither noticed that it was early morning by the time they finished the beer and breadsticks. Al helped Natasha sort everything out in the back and then she drove Al home. There was no end of date kiss and Al didn't mind all that much. She almost invited Natasha in since it was so late - or early? - but it would sound too suggestive. Instead, she asked if there would be a second date and Natasha didn't reply, only winking before driving off. She took it as a good sign.

Wait... was Natasha her girlfriend now?

"Hey, sweetheart, look," Al's dad interrupted her thoughts, patting her shoulder repeatedly. "Who am I?" He held out his hands full of golden forks, grinning madly.

Al sighed. "I don't know, who are you, Pops?"

"Thork, God of Thunder."

"Jesus Christ." She rubbed at her eyes in frustration but couldn't hide her amused grin. Looking after her old man was like looking after a toddler half the time. "I'm not going to acknowledge the fact you just said that to my face, basically betraying our bond. Remember, stick to the limit. $50, that's it."

"Got it, Bub," he saluted before walking off. Her dad was an interesting man, and not just because of his weird humour. He moved to the states from Africa in the 70s with his parents hoping for a new start, but he was only met with racism and prejudice left and right since it  _was_  the 70s. Al remembered him telling her when she was young the story of how he met her mother; during a protest for equality. Her immigrant mother stood up to a white man who threatened to hang her father and then got into a physical fight with the racist when he tried grabbing at her. Al's old man always said that she got her toughness and stubbornness from her mother and her softer and nurturing side from him, although he could be mighty stubborn himself.

She was moving into her new house soon and she was bursting with excitement. No more shitty apartments with loud neighbours and random strangers breaking in and attempting to kill her! She'd be living in a real adult house for the first time in basically her entire life. Sure, she was moving in with her dad which some people might look at her funny for, but did she care? Absolutely not.

Most of the furniture was already at the house, courtesy of her father who knew she was working every day and had her date last night, so that was one less thing to worry about. They just had to transfer Al's bed, TV, and the remaining boxes of her stuff and they were officially moved in, and they had to buy some extra kitchen appliances which was why they were stood in Wayfair. She called ahead for work and told the Principal, who was thankfully a very nice and understanding man, that she'd have to take half of Wednesday off to sign all the legal stuff and unpack everything. Alaina was the kind of the girl who'd much prefer getting everything out of the way rather than worry about it later, which is the polar opposite of her dad, so there was a high chance she'd be doing most of the work. Not that she minded. Sam and his old man, Paul, would be coming over anyway to help out.

Her dad appeared from behind her and threw a small bag of silver cutlery in the trolley.

"What about Forkeye?" he asked thoughtfully.

"If you don't stop," Al warned, shaking her head in silent laughter.

"Come on, you'd never hurt your favourite guy," Rufus stated, tugging the woman to his side and rubbing her head.

"My favourite guy is technically Chad Kroeger, but sure," she replied, ducking underneath his arm to leave his grip. "Have you got everything we need?" The trolley was nearly filled to the brim. So much for sticking to $50.

"Uh, yes, and  _Chad Kroeger_ , Lanie? The lead singer of  _Nickelback_?" He shook his head in disappointment.

"No, the porn star Chad Kroeger, Pop," Al said. "God, keep up with the times, old man."

"I might be old but I can still kick your ass."

"I'd let you win," she teased, lightly nudging her shoulder. Her eyes barely flickered over his shoulder, but... she saw a man standing at the back of the store, clothed in all black, wearing a blue baseball cap. The only part of his body that Al could see was his neck. He was facing her, his face shrouded in darkness. When her eyes widened, he deliberately turned and opened the door to the back alley, stepping outside. "Hey, Pop. Do you mind paying? I think I just saw an old friend."

"Yeah, of course, sweetheart," he said, dismissing Al's unease.

She gave him her card and then rushed past the other customers in the store, apologising when she knocked into someone. They swore loudly and called her a few colourful names, but she didn't bother turning around to start a fight.

Al walked through the door that was partly open and turned around briefly to see if anyone turned their attention on her, but they were all busy looking at the shelves. She stepped through with a deep breath and closed the metal door behind her.

"You're being followed," Stranger's voice spoke up from her left.

Al spun around, her palm resting against the back pocket of her jeans where the outline of a pepper spray bottle stood out. "What do you mean I'm being followed? By who? Because the only person I sense following me right now is  _you_."

His chest expanded with a particularly deep inhale. "I promise I'm not here to hurt you." He sounded guilty. "I know... I know you're friends with Steve Rogers. With Sam Wilson." Stranger seemed to notice her muscles tense when he mentioned their names. "I'm not going to hurt them either, I promise. You... You caught me off guard last time and I'm sorry for hurting you."

"Apology... accepted?" Al tried, not quite sure what to say. "So, care to explain what the  _fuck?_ "

"I don't know who's following you, I thought it was Hydra at first," he said.

"Hydra's been dead for years, Stranger," Al reminded him slowly, utterly confused.

"I know, and that's why I was in your apartment that night," he explained. "I thought Hydra had somehow grouped together again and they were after The Avengers' loved ones, but I was wrong. A group of them found and attacked me near your apartment, one of them shot me before I..." he trailed off. Al guessed how that story ended. " I climbed up your fire escape but the window was already open. Someone else was in your apartment that night, looking through your drawers."

"What?" she blurted, shocked. "Someone was in my apartment while I was  _sleeping?_ "

"Yes," he confirmed. "I was unconscious before I could get a good look at them."

"What were they looking for?" Al questioned. "I'm not an Avenger or some... secret superhero."

"But you were in the special forces, right?"

"How did you...?"

"Hydra had a file on you."

"And how the hell do you know Hydra had a file on me?!" she whisper-shouted. "I found you almost dead on my couch and then you left before I could comprehend what was happening, and now you miraculously found me while I'm shopping with my father and you're telling me that I'm being followed and Hydra had a file on me. Who the  _hell_  are you?"

Stranger stayed stoic still. It was the same Stranger that Al remembered seeing stood up in her apartment, unmoving yet still deadly. However, his shoulders weren't tight like he was ready to attack, but he looked somewhat relaxed. At least relaxed for someone who was definitely some kind of serial killer.

"My name is Bucky."


	20. Pieces

_**Alaina** _

Alaina stared at him incredulously, eyebrows raised high on her forehead. "Bucky," she repeated. "As in... Bucky  _Barnes_? Sargent James Barnes, Steve Rogers best friend in World War Two?" The man slowly nodded, unsure what to do. "As in, The Winter Soldier?  _The Winter Soldier_  has been following me?"

"I haven't been following you," Stranger - nope,  _Bucky_  - defended himself.  _Bucky Barnes defended himself._ "I wasn't sure if-"

"No," Al cut him off, pointing her finger at him. "No, shut up. I'm still trying to process what the fuck is going on."

"I know you have a lot of questions-"

"Yeah, no shit," she scoffed.

"-but you have to listen to me." His eyes locked onto hers and Al nearly had a heart attack.  _How the hell didn't she piece it together as soon as she saw him?_  "I think you're in danger."

"From who?  _Hydra?_ "

"I... I don't know."

"Well, that's just perfect." Al rested her forehead on her clasped hands, leaning against the brick wall behind her. She was having a good day, too. "So, what..." she shook her head. "I'm- I'm just confused. Like  _really_  confused. Are you, what? Gonna tell me some conspiracy that I've somehow been the villain of Hydra this entire time?"

Bucky opened his mouth to reply but Al's phone ringing sharply cut him off. Sighing in frustration, she slid the phone out of her pocket and answered with a harsh, "Hello?"

" _Hey, sweetheart_ ," her dad answered in a hushed tone. Al turned her back to Bucky. Could he hear the conversation? " _Some Jehovah Witness' just gave me a bible so can you hurry your ass up before I beat the Jesus out of them?_ "

"What? Dad," Al sighed. "Just... give me a minute, okay? Put everything in the car and return the trolley, okay?"

" _I'm not a dumbass_ ," he replied. " _See you in a minute, Bub._ "

He hung up and Al felt a sense of emptiness erupt in her chest. She couldn't even complain to anyone about what was going on, a) because it would likely put them in danger, b) she didn't want to involve anyone, especially her dad, in whatever the hell was going on, and c) in a strange way, she didn't want to put Bucky in any sort of danger. She knew who he was and what he's done, but Al felt sympathy for him. He tried running but Steve Rogers just chased right after him when he didn't want him to.

She took a moment to collect herself and then turned around, only mildly surprised that the man was still standing there, looking a little uncomfortable. Good. He  _should_  feel uncomfortable.

"So to recap," she started, blowing out a shallow breath. "You're Bucky Barnes. You... were in my apartment because the people who were after me shot you, and while you were in my apartment you saw someone else going through my stuff. At first you thought that said people stalking me were Hydra but they're not, so... neither of us has any clue who's after me or why. But... wait, you asked me if I was in the special forces," she remembered. "Do you think it's related to that?"

"It's a possibility," Bucky answered.

"Great," she breathed. "I..." she shook her head. "I can't stay here much longer without my dad coming to find me, and if he found me with you... well, no offence, but he'd probably try to kill you. You're not winning Prom King any time soon."

"It would be justified." His eyes flickered to her neck where ugly purple bruises peeked above the material of her scarf.

"Don't blame yourself for that," Al said. He looked at her with a furrow between his brows. "I forgive easy." She shrugged. "But... I told you I'm moving out of my apartment. Do you know where my new place is?" Bucky seemed reluctant to answer. "This isn't some kind of test, Bucky, that's not what I'm about. I'm sure you'll find me anyway, but... Okay, here's the thing." She pressed her lips together and then released them, exhaling, and looked the criminal dead in the eye. "I won't be able to sleep at night knowing that you're out in the streets or doing whatever the hell it is that you do, just... getting bullets shot inside you or something, or stabbed. I'm... wow, I'm really turning my new home into some sanctuary for most wanted people. I'm not asking you to move in but if you ever need someone to stay at night, Bucky... I have both a shed in my back garden and a garage, so it's your choice."  _Don't regret it, don't regret it, don't regret it, don't regret it..._

"Why would you want to help me? After what I've done?"

_I have no idea, man._

"Because I'm selfish and want a good nights rest," she answered instead. "I don't even have to know, even though I'd rather know if you were in my house, but... I know a bit about you, only through what Sam and Steve told me." She really needed to read that journal Steve gave her. "I know you don't trust people easily, I doubt you even trust anyone right now, but... I want you to know that you can trust me. You- You were at my apartment that night because you were looking out for me. Sure, it wasn't the best way to go about it and it was shocking at least to see an unconscious man bleeding out on my couch, but I'd rather you bled out on my couch than the streets. People are after you, too."

"I'll... I'll think about it." He seemed more astonished that she was offering her help more than anything else.

"Okay." She tried a smile. "I'll maybe see you later, Bucky. Try not to get shot or stabbed."

* * *

_**Sam** _

If Al didn't have anything in her apartment before, she certainly didn't have anything now. Most of her furniture was gone, her shelves were bare of food, the walls looked empty and even the fridge didn't have any beer inside, which was unusual for her. There were a dozen boxes laying around, ready to be moved.

He was going to cook something for her but, well,  _that_  wasn't going to happen. Instead, Sam started lifting some of the boxes and placed them next to the door for an easier delivery. His arms strained after a few minutes.

Where was Steve when you needed him?

A key turning in the lock caught Sam's attention, and he perched his hip on one of the boxes in front of the door, nearly toppling over when he realised it was almost empty.

The door was pushed open and Al... she looked exhausted. Sam was expecting her to be bubbly after her win of a date with Natasha but... oh no. What if she didn't like it?

"Babe?" he asked concerned.

"What are you doing here, Sammy?" she asked, frowning at him. She set some full bags by the door, next to the cardboard boxes. "It's Sunday. You should be relaxing at home like normal people."

"And  _you_  should be smiling like a love-struck idiot after your date last night," Sam said. "What's up?"

"Nothing, Sam," Al replied, not even glancing at her friend as she walked past him to the kitchen. He followed her through and heard the sound of a tap running. "I'm just exhausted with getting back really late last night and then I had to get up early to shop with dad," she said, filling a glass to the brim with water. She took a sip, set down the glass and chewed the inside of her cheek, turning to face Sam with a tired smile. "The date was perfect, though. I... Thank you for doing that. I really needed it."

"Why are you thanking me?" Sam asked.

"Natasha might have set it up but you gave her the idea," she pointed out, raising her eyebrows. At Sam's bewildered look, she added, "I was drunk when I told you but  _I_  actually remember my mistakes."

"Yeah, thanks for telling her about the Halloween party at college. Now everyone in the Tower knows about it."

"No problem, Sammy." She gave a side-smirk, leaning forward to squeeze his cheek.

He slapped her hand away. "I came here so you'd come home to a nice surprise but there is  _nothing_  here, Al. You've got until Wednesday but it looks like you're ready to move out now."

"Better than leaving it last minute."

" _Better than leaving it last minute_ ," Sam mimicked in a high pitched voice.

"I'll kill you," she warned.

"Yeah, yeah." He waved away the threat. "Why don't you come to the Tower for a bit? We can watch some movies..."

"You know that Natasha and I  _are_  technically dating, right?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "You don't have to keep trying to set up what has already been set up?"

"So this means you're girlfriend and girlfriend?" Sam grinned.

"What? Sam- we went on one date. We're not like..." she waved her hands around aimlessly, "a thing."

"Sure, babe," Sam whispered, patting her shoulder with a knowing smile. "Keep telling yourself that. Did you want to come by the Tower, by the way?"

"Did you walk?" she asked.

He frowned. "Yeah... It's only 20 minutes."

"Wanna take my bike?" She grinned.

"Is that even a question?" Sam scoffed.

"Then let's get going."


	21. School Is Fun

_**Alaina** _

It was the next day and Alaina was sat in a meeting, feeling like she was hungover. Principal Morita informed the staff on security updates and something about CCTV, but Al wasn't listening. She didn't realise she was nodding off until a fellow teacher, one of Al's friends, Kath nudged her, nearly sending her flying out of the chair.

Kathleen Tyler was one of the English teachers - MJ and Peter's, in fact - and was Al's first friend at the school. They met in the break room and Al offered to make her coffee, which Kath seemed extremely grateful for since ' _none of these floozies knows how to use the damn machine_ '. Al nearly snorted her coffee through her nose when some of the teachers glared at her, and then they started spending some of their free time together. Kath always shoved her foot in her mouth and found it difficult to bullshit to someone's face which Al greatly appreciated. As well as Kath, she met Gloria Warren and Ricky Greaves, both science teachers. It was awkward to try and make plans since Kath, Gloria and Ricky had a lot more work to do and there has only been one occurrence in which they all had lunch together, but they were starting to make it work according to their schedule. There was also the fact that Peter, MJ and Ned seemed to want to spend every free second in Al's office, so sometimes Al would have to kindly kick them out to another classroom so she could go out for lunch with her group.

"Good god, Al," Kath started as they walked out of the meeting room, siding up to Alaina. She had to look up at her since she was so small, barely reaching 5'2, with gorgeous tanned skin and hazel eyes. "You looked like me listening to my husband in there. What was that about?"

"You don't have a husband," Al pointed out, nodding to Ricky as he approached the two. "And I'm moving house, Kath. Can't a girl be tired from that?"

"Word is that you  _almost_  passed out in front of Morita," Ricky said, moving into step with them. He was tall and lanky, always wearing suede suits with thin-rimmed glasses. He was a geek, but in the cute and borderline awkward way that made the kids both like him and make fun of him. "I thought you were more professional than this, Boo."

"First of all, don't call me Boo, literally ever again," Al said, pointing her finger at him. "Secondly, you weren't even in that meeting."

He shrugged. "Kathy texted me."

"You texted him during a meeting?"

"If you can fall asleep, I can text." She held her hands up.

"So, we've got about 30 before the little demons start piling in," Ricky said, earning a shove from Kath. "Gonna have a quick smoke first if you'd like to join." Kath agreed and Al shrugged indifferently, following the English teacher outside to the side of the building where the students would hide to smoke. If students could do it, they could, too. "What d'ya wanna do after?"

"I think Gloria's in her classroom," Kath said, resting her head on the wall to look at Ricky, who pulled out a skinny cigarette and a lighter. "We could give her a bit of hassle?"

"She has marking to do," Al told them. "I doubt she wants us to bother her."

"Since when did you became so boring?" Ricky murmured around his cig.

"Speaking of boring," Kath cut in before Al could slap the man upside the head. "How did your date go?"

"Good god," she whispered, hiding her face in her hand.

"You went on a  _date?!_ " Ricky practically yelled. "And you didn't tell me?"

"Please, say it louder. I don't think  _all_  of my students quite caught that."

"So, who's the lucky guy?"

Ah, that was the question she specifically didn't want to answer. Usually, answering that question meant having to explain the fact that you were not dating a guy but in fact a girl, and then they'd give the classic ' _oh, I'm so sorry! I'm not homophobic or anything, I had a gay friend in high school_ '. Socially it was awkward to explain but talking about it in a work environment could be dangerous for her career. Like Sam said, you can no longer get fired for being gay in New York, but that didn't mean that fellow employees and employers wouldn't analyse your every move, waiting for you to make a small mistake so they have a reason to sack you, like with her previous teaching job. In the army, not only being a woman but also being gay meant you had to work twice as hard in order to earn your place, so people wouldn't look at you and just think  _woman_. Commanders were critical of every little thing she did before she was asked to join Cerebus Squad, where they couldn't give two shits about what goes on at home as long as you commit to the job. The special forces were by no means a good place, it was full of manipulation and death, but they would never let someone's private life overshadow their ability.

Al remembered Curtis, a member of her team, telling her what it was like being a gay black man not only in the miliary, but in every-day life at home. She couldn't even comprehend the abuse that he suffered.

"I'm not talking about this," Al stated firmly, giving a warning look to Ricky who was about to burst with excitement. "It was one date and there's not going to be another one. End of." She hoped to god there would be another date.

"Tease," Kath scolded lightly, shaking her head. "Hurry up and finish your cancer stick, Rick. I wanna get inside."

"Cancer stick?" he repeated, offended.

"Yes. Because it is a literal stick that will give you cancer."

"Don't look so surprised, Ricky," Al cut in. "Smoking will kill you at a very early age."

* * *

_"Didn't know you smoked." Frank looked at Al with a strange expression on his face, his fingers tapping on the bed she was laid on. It was a mixture of guilt, sadness, hope, and... something else that she couldn't put her finger on._

_"Didn't know hospitals allowed their patients to smoke, yet here we are." Al's voice was husky, raw from shouting and screaming. Curtis... she didn't know if Curt made it out alive. They wouldn't let her see him. "It might be a stick of cancer but it helps relieve stress."_

_"There're better ways to do that," he said._

_"Like punching Agent Asshole's eye out?" she countered, stubbing out the cigarette on the ashtray next to her. "You're gonna get in a lot of shit, Frank. Doesn't matter why you did it."_

_"You've been in here for a week, Ally, and you look like shit," he said hoarsely. She had to agree with him on that. The mission that Schoonover and Agent Asshole sent them on, it was a fucking ambush like they all knew it was. Al was shot in the chest and died for two minutes, and then they revived her. She didn't remember anything in the first few days since she was doped on drugs, but she recalled Billy sitting on her bedside, telling Al that Frank literally punched Agent Asshole's eye out when he said that everyone knew lives were going to be taken. The scraped on her face were mostly gone by now, the black eye now a faded purple, her sprained wrist was no longer in a sling but it hurt to breathe when the morphine faded. Shrapnel from the bullet punctured her lung, thankfully just before air support arrived and transported everyone out of there._ _"No one's telling us shit about what happened to Curt, most of our guys are either gone or dead."_

_"You got any good news?" Al laughed but she wanted to cry._

_Frank looked at her with hesitation, and she knew that whatever he was going to say wasn't going to be good._

_"They're gonna give you a Medal of Honour when you're out," he told her. She felt the pain in her chest increase when her breath caught. "I know, it's..." he sighed, placing a large calloused over hers, squeezing, "it's not looking good."_

_"So this is their way of sending me off?" Al asked, scoffing with tears brimming her eyes. "I watched my friends die, got shot in the chest, fought off a dozen guys with the bullet still in my chest, I left my men out on their own... there's nothing honourable about that." She shook her head, feeling anger overtaking her. "My dad doesn't even know what happened. Sam doesn't, Riles doesn't... I'm not leaving. I'm_ not _leaving, Frank. They think I'm mentally unfit to stay, don't they? So they're using a Medal of Honour to soften the blow."_

_"We don't know that," Frank said. "And it wouldn't be for nothing. You... I ran in like a fucking idiot and you came after me, saved my ass a dozen times and... and then..."_

_"Frank," Al spoke firmly, gently squeezing his fingers when he avoided her gaze, head down and jaw clenched. "You're not responsible for what happened. I chose to jump in front of that bullet, not you. I ran towards the grenade, Frank. You didn't make do shit. I'm not... I'm trying not to blame myself for whatever happened to Curt, so don't blame yourself for this."_

* * *

Alaina was sat inside her office, coffee in hand as she skimmed through her emails. Mostly about school events that she wasn't interested in, field trips, a football game happening in the next week, and then an email from one of the deputy teachers caught her eye.

_Miss Gunley,_

_I have a few concerns regarding Michelle from your class. Her teachers have expressed concerns that she has not been herself recently, has been getting into fights, is not committing to her work and her grades are getting worse as finals approach. If you could speak to her about this and tell her that she needs to work harder, it would be greatly appreciated. Feel free to collect her from her classroom whenever you have the time._

_Thank you,_

_Mr. Yates._

That email was enough to induce an anger in Alaina that she didn't think was possible, yet she felt her eyes narrow and fingers tighten around her thermal mug as she read it. So much for caring about your students, right? ' _Tell her she needs to work harder_ ' was one of the most infuriating things she's read in a long time, and she recently read an article about child imprisonment. Maybe this asshole should put his student's needs in front of their grades instead of worrying about something so superficial that won't matter at all if she goes to college.

A knock on Alaina's door interrupted her angry thoughts. "Miss Gunley?" a muffled voice called. "I have a delivery here for you."

A delivery?

"Send it in," Alaina called back, unable to hide the bite in her tone. The door opened and Amanda from reception walked in, holding... "Flowers?" she asked.

"Looks like you've got a secret admirer," Amanda raised her eyebrows suggestively, setting the vase of flowers on an empty space on her desk. She turned and walked out without another word, leaving Al staring mystified at the flowers.

She stood up and walked around the desk to get a better look at them. It was a bunch of blood red roses tied together with a white ribbon, set inside a circular glass vase. Who the hell would get her flowers?

There was a note attached to the ribbon, she realised when she carefully ran her fingers over the thorny stems of the roses.

_Al,_

_I cannot wait to see you again, love._

It was unsigned but judging by the beautiful cursive writing and affectionate term, she assumed it must have been from Natasha. Al chewed her lip to stop a smile from taking over her face.

Maybe the week wasn't so bad, after all.

But still, she needed to talk to MJ.

Letting go of the note, Al set the vase down behind her desk to avoid questions from anyone who might wander into her office. She quickly checked the computer to see which lesson MJ was in - science with Gloria - and then walked out of her office, finding the stairwell and made her way up to C block.

The classroom was easy to find since Al spent some time with Gloria inside it eating lunch, but she felt nerves prickle at the base of her skull when she realised that she would have to walk into a classroom full of students. It was probably ridiculous sounding since she had her own class, but she knew the people in hers. She didn't know anyone else outside that class. Well, aside from Ned.

She peered through the window in the door for a moment and saw that Gloria was at the front of the classroom, pointing to diagrams in the PowerPoint presentation, saying something that Al would definitely  _not_  understand.

Not sure what exactly to do, she knocked on the door twice before turning the knob, not walking in but having half of her body inside the class. "Mrs. Warren?" she asked. "If it's not a problem, I'd like to talk to MJ in my office for a few minutes." She caught sight of the familiar head of curly hair, with Peter Parker sat next to her. Peter smiled and Al nodded back with her own.

"Of course," Gloria nodded, gesturing for MJ to pick up her bags.

The girl picked up her backpack and slung it over her shoulder, walking away from her desk and down the isle in the middle of the tables.

" _Michelle's in trouble_ ," one of the boys sang, earning a wave of laughter from the other boys around him.

"One more word and I'll rip out your glands," MJ threatened them with a sharp glare, silencing their laughter. Not  _totally_  different from her normal self, then.

MJ followed Al through the corridor and down the stairs in relative silence. Al wasn't worried about her, but... well, she was worried. Astrid's comment a few days ago about MJ being adopted and saying lightly that she was probably being abused hit her. It was unlikely that she  _was_ , but still. It was beginning to eat at Al.

Alaina shut the office door behind her and took a seat, gesturing for the girl to do the same. Instead of sitting behind her desk like she usually did, she instead settled on the table in the corner of the room where MJ, Peter and Ned would sit at lunch or when they were doing work. MJ took a seat next to Al -  _good sign_  - so she turned her chair so she was fully facing the girl.

"Am I in trouble, teach?"

"No, of course not." Al shook her head, giving a soft smile. "I got an email from Mr. Yates today." MJ's expression didn't change. "He's concerned that your grades are not where they should be and that you've been getting into a lot of fights recently."

MJ scoffed with a little smirk, rolling her eyes. "You gonna berate me about my grades, too? I get that from all of my teachers every day. I don't need it during my free time."

"Of course I'm not going to do that," Al said. "I care about you more than I care about some number you'll get on a paper."

"Are you psychoanalysing me or something?" she asked suspiciously.

"I'm just being honest. I don't think grades should be very important but they are and I can't do anything to change that," Al said truthfully. "Tell me what's going, MJ. You're doing exceptionally in Art, but what other subjects do you enjoy that you're not doing so good in?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess... science? I like chemistry and biological, physics can go screw itself, though. I know my grades are awful but they put too much work on my head and I don't have anyone to really help me with it." Al had to hide her frown at that last part. "And the fights. Well, people make dumb comments and I get mad at them. I usually just make a dumb comment back, but sometimes..."

"You want them to feel it," Al finished. She remembered being MJ's age and doing the same thing, always finding something to be angry at.

MJ picked at her nails. "Guess so." There was a few moments of silence where Al was thinking of what to say, but MJ must have interpreted differently. "You think I'm crazy."

Al nearly laughed at that and instead replaced it with a toothy smile. "I think you're crazy but not in the way you're thinking." Her smile faded. "Listen, I... I'm going to trust you with something. Something important." MJ frowned and gave a small nod, yet didn't say anything. "Can I trust you, MJ?"

"'Course, teach," she said.

"Okay." Al ran her tongue over the corner of her lip. She shifted in her seat and rested one elbow on the table, the other in her lap. "This might seem irrelevant the way I'm starting out, but I promise it'll make sense. Do you know who Sam Wilson is?" MJ nodded again, looking more confused by the second. "He's my best friend. I've known him since I was kid, went to war with him, and we're still friends to this day."

"You know The Avengers?" MJ's eyes widened. It was a stark change seeing this girl going from  _I-know-everything-about-you-and-your-mother_  to  _I-literally-had-no-idea-what-the-hell_.

"Yeah." Al nodded, her lips pulling softly at MJ's expression. She looked amazed. "And you know that Peter has that Stark internship?" MJ's eyebrows were still furrowed as she bobbed her head. "I know Tony Stark who's a very technical guy, good at engineering and definitely good at chemistry. Bruce Banner is a genius scientist, specialises in biochemistry, nuclear physics and all of the other good sciencey things that you can think of." That was the only thing she could recall from her very brief conversation with Bruce. "It might not be an internship but it can definitely help with your grades."

"I can't do that, teach." MJ didn't look scared but was definitely determined. "A lot of kids at school are struggling, it's not just me."

"I don't know you personally, MJ," Al started, "but for some reason, I know you won't throw away an opportunity like this. Think about it and come back to me when you're ready."

* * *

It was later that night when Al realised something. Something about the flowers sent to her office. The note.

Natasha always called her Alaina, not Al.

And Sam said that she was out on a mission.

And then she remembered what Bucky said to her:

_You're being followed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what - I don't hate this chapter! It's a bit all over the place, though, with the flashback and then the time skip at the end. However, the actual plot is now getting moving (only 50k words in lol sorry and there's still no Nalaina kiss). I wonder what that last part was about, hmmmmm...
> 
> Also, do you guys like the flashbacks? Personally, I think it adds more to Alaina's personality and growth since it shows that she's changed, especially when it comes to the anxiety side of things. What do you think of the MJ scene? And Al making new friends?
> 
> Thanks for still reading!


	22. Coming Clean

_**Natasha** _

"I don't think I should."

"What? Why not?"

"Because it looks desperate, Clint."

"How does messaging the girl of your dreams look desperate?"

" _Girl of my_ - _?_  Okay, no. We're not doing this now."

"Wait," Clint stopped, holding up his finger without a too smug look on his face. Turned out that the mission they were sent on lasted far shorter than they were anticipating, at least a week early, so now Natasha and Clint were on their way back to New York from Slovenia in the quinjet. "You're  _nervous_."

"Nervous," Natasha repeated, cocking an eyebrow at her friend. The jet had been in autopilot for close to 9 hours - both Natasha and Clint had time to recuperate and nap before returning home - and they had about an hour left, so they'd been talking back and forth about nothing for a few hours. At least until he brought up Alaina.

"Yup, nervous," he confirmed for her. "Your intimidation tactics might work on literally everyone else, but not me, sister." Natasha needed to find more ways to scare Clint without injuring him. "You're refusing to message her because you believe it makes you look desperate, and you looking desperate is an issue for you because you care about what Alaina thinks about you and you're scared to mess it up. Am I right, or am I  _right?_ "

"I'm not nervous, Clint," Natasha murmured, only half-lying. "I care about her like I care about Sam and Steve." She wasn't looking at him but could tell that he was wearing an expression of disbelief. "But maybe you're right. I don't want to mess anything up because I don't want anyone to get hurt."

"Wow." Clint leaned back in his seat, arms folded over his chest. "We just compromised a terrorist base, fought off over twenty guys barehanded, barely escaped being blown up, and you're  _actually_  scared about sending a text."

Natasha almost did a double-take.  _Did he even listen to what she said?_  "I'm not scared about sending a text."

"Prove it."

Those two words.  _Those two words_ , for god's sake. Clint knew Natasha hated being challenged because she could never refuse one, no matter the circumstances behind it. Tony jokes that she wouldn't be able to read every Harry Potter book in one week? She'd read every single word in four days. Sam thinks he can beat her in a spar? He'd be on the floor before he finished his sentence. Anyone dared to question her ability? They'd be flat on their ass in a moment.

"Fine," Natasha accepted, leaning over to grab her phone from the shelf above Clint's head. He was sat opposite her with his feet on her knees, so she had to shove them away in order to reach.

**Hey, Alaina, it's Natasha. Sam gave me your number a while ago but I forgot to give you mine like the terrible date I am. I'll be back in New York in a few hours so I was hoping you'd be free at lunch? I'm going to stop by the Tower first to change but I'll walk to your office if that's okay with you? Hopefully see you soon.**

Natasha showed the message to Clint after hitting send, smirking victoriously at his flabbergasted expression.

"Is this even you!?" Clint gaped with a slight whine in his voice. "You call me a little bitch in every message you send me!"

"That's because Alaina's cuter than you," she teased, kicking his shin softly. "And I've known you most of my life, so deal with it."

"I... I gotta ask you something about Al, actually. Her very suspiciously running from the cafe after a phone call. The bruises on her neck." Clint turned serious. Natasha frowned at the sudden change but nodded. "There was no way she was mugged. If she  _did_  fight back against the attacker, the bruises on her neck wouldn't be as severe as they are, and we both know what bruises look like. Nothing was taken from her, she didn't have any other marks on her..."

"And she didn't want us to tell Sam," Natasha added with a sigh. He was right, one-hundred percent, the story just didn't add up.

" _'I don't want him to worry'_ ," Clint quoted, shaking his head. "I just... I don't get it. She was the best fighter in special forces so how could one guy overpower her like that? And what would Sam worry about? Her being mugged again, but she's moving out  _tomorrow_. Why would he worry about it if...?" He looked frustrated, more frustrated than she'd seen him in a while.

"What else could it be, Clint?" Natasha asked with a soft shrug. " _Stone?_ " she scoffed. "He wouldn't lay a hand on her after last time."

"I was thinking more along the lines of her dad."

Natasha did an actual double-take this time, asking, " _What?_ "

"We know that he has...  _issues_ ," he put it lightly. "And his file said that he was kind of a deadbeat when she was a kid-"

"You've read his  _file?_ " Natasha shook her head. "Seriously, Clint?"

"I was worried, okay?" he defended himself, and he did have the decency to sound guilty. "It's not illogical, it makes sense, Tasha, and you know it does."

"Because of the fact he was a single black parent that lived in the suburbs?" Natasha was getting riled up, she needed to keep it cool. "If you read his file then you'd know that he wasn't around because he was working for his family-"

"And drinking heavily and doing drugs-"

"-which is beside the point," she snapped. Clint's mouth shut, lips set in a straight line. "Just because he has mental issues and they didn't have a good relationship doesn't mean he would hold her by the throat and give her bruises, Clint."

Before he could reply to once again defend herself, her phone beeped.

**I'd be happy to see you again, Natasha. Ask the receptionist to guide you to my office and I'll see you there:)**

* * *

**_Alaina_ **

_Deep breaths._

Nope, deep breaths would lead to hyperventilating and then a panic attack.

_You're having a panic attack either way._

Oh god, why did her life go to shit as soon as she met The Avengers? First she yelled at a millionaire, borderline threatened him and then implied he had erectile dysfunction, she got a call from the man she hadn't spoken to in years, Bucky Barnes aka The Winter  _fucking_  Soldier broke into her apartment bleeding out, near killed her, stalked her, and she offered him a place to stay, yet somehow the only thing on her mind was the flowers that were sent to her office.

Her first thought was that it was Frank, but the last thing he would do is send flowers to her location. He was too blunt to be discreet. Then her mind went to Billy. He would definitely send flowers - he's done it before when she was in the hospital - but having an ominous note attached to them just wasn't him, especially when it just said ' _I cannot wait to see you again, love_ '. That ruled out Sam since he has never called her  _love_  in the history of their friendship. Dad has never called her Al, Sam's dad would sign the card, Natasha was on a mission, Clint was with her, no other Avenger would send that message to her or flowers in general, none of her other friends bought her lunch, let alone a nice gift.

So... to conclude... that excluded Frank, Billy, Sam, her dad, Sam's dad, Natasha, Clint, Tony, Steve, Bruce, Wanda, Vision, Kath, Gloria, and everyone else at that school...

Was she going crazy?

Yup, she was probably going crazy.

Wait...  _maybe she has a secret admirer?_

"Did someone kill your dog? Because it looks like someone killed your dog."

"Terrible pickup line, MJ," Alaina muttered, her head hunched over her desk. "Come on, you can do better than that."

"Okay. Are you a terminally ill dog because it looks like you want to die?"

" _MJ_ ," Ned hissed, nudging her shoulder. That set the two off into a bicker which happened a lot more than you would think. It wasn't exactly playful but it wasn't really an actual argument either, they were more like a married couple.

Peter was asleep with his head resting on the table in the crook of his arms, half-finished homework set out in front of him. He seemed more willing to talk to her about Spider-Man, even excitable about it, but he talked about it casually, like Sam would about Falcon. But Sam wasn't a teenage kid, he was a fully grown man who could make his own decisions. Not that Peter couldn't make his own decisions, but... Jesus, with everything else in Al's life happening, she was extra worried about him. If Bucky Barnes was out and thought, if only for a brief moment, that Hydra was out there somewhere, did that mean they were in the city? If Peter was out by himself when Hydra agents were out there... Al didn't even want to think about it. She's grown close to Peter since she started working at the school and she liked to think that they had at least some form of friendship. He trusted her with things, whether it was serious or not, and she was the same with him. She talked about her time in the army and he talked about what it was like being Spider-Man and having to hide that huge part of himself. Thinking of him being hurt, hurt her.

The only light at the end of the deep dark tunnel was Natasha. The date... Alaina could not stop thinking about how perfect it was. If that was just the first date, what would the second date be like? The third? The fourth, if there was one? The way they held hands made her heart tingle, and Natasha staring at her while Al talked, thinking that she didn't notice her... it was straight out of a novel.

Shit.

Natasha was going to be there in 10 minutes.

"You two, give it up!" Al raised her voice to overlap MJ and Ned's, accidentally waking Peter up. The kid groaned and shifted in his seat, burying his head deeper into his arms. "You're gonna have to find somewhere else to eat today."

"Hot date?" MJ asked.

_Yes._

"No," Al replied curtly. "Wake up Peter and take him to... take him somewhere he can nap."

Peter tried swatting away his friends but gave up after a minute, wiping his eyes with one hand and slinging his backpack over his shoulder with the other. He murmured a goodbye to Al, Ned gave a smile and wave, and MJ gave her usual ' _catch you later, teach_ '.

It's just lunch, nothing serious. It wasn't a proposal.

She's fine.

* * *

Okay.

She wasn't fine.

Alaina's hands were shaking furiously when Natasha walked in and she didn't know why. It was probably the anxiety from the shitty week she's had. Natasha was, as usual, absolutely stunning and everything Al looked for in a woman. Or a man. If a man looked like Natasha, she would not complain.

_What was she saying?_

You're fine.

"You okay, Alaina?" Natasha asked as she set out lunch on the table, sensing the woman's unease.

_No._

"Yes," Al managed a smile. "Just stressed with all the moving arrangements. At least I've got my dad to help." Natasha's finger twitched against a wrapped sandwich at the mention of her father, and Al looked at her confused, but she didn't turn to look at her. "How'd the mission go? Uh... Sam told me you were on a mission. No details or anything."

"Don't worry about it. And it went as well as any mission could go," the red-head laughed breezily as she hauled herself up on the table, crossing her legs. Al was leaning with her lower back against her desk, uneaten toastie in hand - she knew how much she loved toasties, dammit this woman is perfect. But still, Al's hands were shaking. Natasha either didn't notice or didn't ask, and she assumed it was the latter.  _Don't freak out, Al._  You're fine. "No casualties, except Clint scraped his back a little and kept bitching about it until he fell asleep. He might be a superhero but he still doesn't know how to handle pain. Sometimes he tries to climb on counter-tops to reach the Poptarts because Thor is  _much_  taller than him." Natasha took a bite from a red apple and crunched, chewing around it until she asked, "How are the moving arrangements going, anyway? Had any issues?"

"I think I'm going to die," Al blurted, surprising Natasha, who slowly gulped down the piece of apple and stared at her with slightly wide eyes. "I haven't told anyone but everything has been going horribly for me in the past week, the, uh, exception being you, of course. And moving out. But... that day in the cafe when I sorta ran off? Yeah, my old friend in the army called me after so many years of nothing, he said that he needed my help and I got angry and hung up on him but now I feel like a huge asshole because he could have been dying, which wouldn't surprise me because he's a huge idiot. I thought that it couldn't get worse than me shouting at Tiberius Stone and then Frank calling me, but then someone broke into my apartment and was passed out nearly dying on my couch so I helped him and then he nearly killed me, but it turned out that someone  _else_  broke into my apartment before him and that guy stalked me to Wayfair's and said that there's this whole thing with people following me, a-and  _he's_  the one that gave me the bruise on my neck but I didn't tell anyone because I was panicking."

She took a deep breath before continuing, "He said that Hydra had a file on me and that they could be after me and, I-I don't know if that's normal! I'm just out here trying to live but apparently, people don't  _want_  me to live and I think I  _am_  being stalked because someone sent flowers to my office and no one I know would do that and I've been freaking out all week about it." As soon as she finished, Alaina held her hands in front of her mouth with bulging eyes. "Oh god, I'm so sorry."

So much for not freaking out.

"Someone's been following you?" Natasha asked with relative calmness, the food and drink completely forgotten.

"I, uh, well,  _yes_ ," Al stammered, running a hand through her hair.  _She couldn't tell an Avenger that she knew Bucky Barnes._  "But he's not a threat, the guy that followed me to Wayfair's."

"But he did  _that_  to you?" She pointed a finger at her covered neck.

"He was scared," Al argued pathetically. "He's... He has issues."

"Okay." She nodded, still processing everything that was launched on her. "Have you told anyone else about this?"

"No," Al answered quietly, head lowered like her teacher was scolding her.

Natasha, with an agility Al had never seen, moved from sitting on the table to standing directly in front of her. Al's eyes stayed glued to the floor as Natasha brought a hand up and gently ran the backs of her fingers over the exposed bruise on her neck, making Al freeze momentarily. Natasha felt the small movement and cupped Al's jaw, lifting her head up so her dark eyes met bright green.

"I need you to trust me, Alaina," she breathed, cool breath fanning over her lips. "Do you trust me?"

Without hesitation, she answered, "Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think of this one? Live up to your expectations or nah? Who do you think the stalker could be? It might even be someone in the list mentioned at the start of Al's POV, hmmm...
> 
> Thanks for the comments as always!


	23. Date Two?

_**Tony** _

Okay, so Tony didn't mean to eavesdrop on their conversation, he really didn't. Even when Jarvis told him that Al and Nat walked into the Tower, the thought of listening in didn't even register with him, since he was a) working in his lab, and b) the thought of hearing his friend and his friend's friend/friend's girlfriend (but not girlfriend) doing the dirty was wrong on so many levels. And he had porn for that.

But because Tony was a nice caring guy who wanted but happiness for his friends, he ordered Jarvis to turn on audio in Natasha's room when he was informed that Al was visibly upset and on the brink of having an anxiety attack. When he tuned in - he  _swore_  on his AI's life he would never do this unless Jarvis hinted at him to do so, which he did - Tony was expecting relationship issues or an argument, but, well, he was surprised, to say the least.

"-and I don't hate him or anything, it's just more... resentment, I guess," Alaina said mid-sentence. "He's not a bad guy but his head was in the wrong place and I was there at the wrong time, we fought and..." There was a pause, and then a sigh. Tony could only hear the audio and assuming that it was nothing important, he went back to sketching out designs for Wilson's new wings. "But he might've known that  _something_  was going on. Didn't call for how many years so it probably wasn't for a catch-up. Maybe the guys after me went after Frank, too? And he called to warn me but I hung up on him like a fucking idiot. I could have been killed that night, hell, he might even be dead right now for all I know."

Tony did look up from his blueprints then with raised eyebrows and parted lips. "J, turn on visuals for Nat's room," he ordered. There were guys after her? And  _Frank Castle_  was trying to contact her?

" _Sir, I would recommend that you-_ "

"Nope. No recommendations."

His AI was silenced and live footage from Natasha's room played in the hologram. Nat was sat on her bed, legs out in front of her and Al's head on her lap, facing up towards the red-head vixen, eyes darting away while Tash gazed at her with a furrow in her brow. It was cute and he would have smiled if it wasn't for the, uh, you know, murder talk.

"What about the man in your apartment?" Natasha asked softly, running her fingers through Al's short hair.

"I... I don't really know, in all honesty." She chuckled. "He wasn't out to get me or anything- well, he did technically try and murder me but he didn't do it to hurt me, you know? H-He was scared and thought I was going to hurt him, and I was pulling a bullet out of his stomach when he woke up so it's pretty understandable."

"Unmute," Tony said. "Uh... J? What's happening?"

" _I am currently looking through CCTV footage outside Miss Gunley's apartment._ "

"He didn't really explain much," Al continued with a bit more panic in her voice. "Just that some guys were looking through my stuff while I was sleeping and they would have probably killed me if he didn't scare them off-"

"Breathe," she reassured, interrupting Al's breathless rant. "Did he say why they were in your apartment?"

"Not why, just that they were there," Al told her, chewing her lip in thought. "I... He mentioned that he thought Hydra was regrouping and that they were after everyone's 'loved ones'." Natasha's fingers running through her hair ceased to a stop, and Tony's breath caught. "That's why he was outside my apartment, thought that they were gonna be after me and he was right, I guess. They cornered him, shot him and the guy in my apartment escaped, but he said after - at Wayfairs - that it wasn't Hydra. That it could have been something to do with... well, my army days. I wasn't in the special forces, but the super _secret_  special forces."

"Got anything?" Tony asked.

" _I have conjured an image from a broken security camera outside of Miss Gunley's apartment_ ," his AI responded, displaying a large image on the hologram in front of Tony. It was taken in the alleyway next to Al's apartment, and behind the garbage was a man dressed fully in black, his head deliberately turned away from the camera. " _The image is blurred and the man that Miss is talking about's face is covered. I will not be able to do facial recognition but I can assess his measurements and narrow it down to people who are possibly related to Miss Gunley."_

"Expand that to The Avengers, too," Tony stated, rubbing at his eyes furiously. Can't even get one day off. "Tell me about Al's experience with the..." he waved his hands around, "super secret special ops she was on about."

" _Alaina Gunley spent three years acting as Sargent for the black ops in the United States Marine Corps Force Reconnaissance before being noticed by William Rawlins, the Director of Covert Operations for the CIA and founder of Cerberus Squad. She was a stand-out character for Cerberus Squad as she was promoted to be a Captain, being the first and only woman on the Squad. "_

"Tell me more about Rawlins. The important stuff," Tony demanded. "And turn off audio and video for Nat's room but keep a log of their conversation."

" _Of course, sir. William Rawlins was commonly known by the name Agent Orange and was vastly unpopular with his men and woman_ ," Jarvis informed. " _An incident in his final year serving as Director led to his vision becoming impaired which-"_

"What happened there?" he asked, chewing the inside of his cheek.

" _William Rawlins sent Miss Gunley, Frank Castle and Billy Russo's teams on an assassination mission in Kandahar, but it failed after realising too late it was an ambush. According to the file, Frank Castle ran into the building filled with terrorists and became stuck when he was captured and nearly tortured. Miss Gunley ran in just in time to save him but ended up being shot three times before a grenade exploded. One of the bullets ruptured her lung and rendered her death for a few minutes before being revived. A small number of soldiers survived the ambush and after seeing Miss Gunley almost dead, Frank Castle stormed into Rawlin's tent and punched him. That led to his eyeball popping and his eyelid being sliced open by Frank Castle's ring."_

"Gunley died?" Tony asked for confirmation. That was  _not_  in the file he read about her.

" _I had to do some digging to find the destroyed records, but yes_ ," Jarvis confirmed. Shit. " _After receiving a medal of honour,"_ Tony _did_ know about that _, "Miss Gunley was ordered to quit her days in the army but refused, and as a result ended up being Sargent again for another year before her friend, Riley, died in action. During the event of her receiving her award, Miss Gunley had what was described as a breakdown, which may have contributed to the government insisting she quit._ "

"Right." Tony needed a minute to process all the information that was thrown at him. First off, she actually  _died_  in action and never mentioned it to anyone and it wasn't even in her record. Second, he didn't know she was part of the Cerberus Squad  _or_  that she had a 'breakdown' while receiving her medal of honour. Tony remembered hearing about it from Pepper after revealing himself as Iron Man, but had no clue what happened in it. Maybe if he just did the research all those years ago, he'd know at least a  _bit_  more about Al. She was an amazing fighter, handled weapons as well as she walked - which was  _very_  good - handled herself well in situations and, according to her Commander's report, could 'easily be the next Captain America due to her heroism, intellect and ability'. So, pretty good, then. Maybe even good enough to make an enemy. "Was there anyone in Cerberus that would want her dead?"

" _Not that I am aware of, sir_ ," Jarvis replied with sass. Stupid AI. " _Billy Russo and Miss Gunley ended on good terms and meet up regularly, around once a month, in the coffee shop she used to work in. Besides the phone call Miss Gunley mentioned, her and Frank Castle have had no contact. She has two remaining team members who are still alive, Curtis Hoyle and Gunner Henderson. Curtis Hoyle lost his leg in Kandahar and is now living as a group therapist for soldiers with PTSD in Boston, and regularly calls Miss Gunley. Gunner Henderson is currently inhabiting a cabin in Toronto, Canada, and has not left his home in over 30 days."_

He blew out a breath of air. "War really fucks you up, huh."

" _You're not the only one on the team who has PTSD, sir._ "

"You think Gunley's part of the team?" Tony asked, frowning. She wasn't, right?

" _I think she is more than qualified_ ," Jarvis said. " _Miss Gunley and Romanoff have now finished their conversation and are heading to the elevator. Would you like me to stop them?_ "

"Nah, just tell Nat I wanna see her when she comes back. And print out a transcript of their conversation, delete any files you have on it right after. Don't want anyone to get their filthy hands on that."

" _Of course, sir. Would you like anything else?_ "

"Hm. Just scrap up any information you can on Alaina and her Suicide Squad, Castle specifically, and get that report in before Clint cooks up a storm. Anything that might incriminate anyone, including Sam and Riley and the gal herself."

" _On it, sir. Would you like me to call in The Avengers?_ "

That was the question, wasn't it? Tell the team and get the problem sorted out or hope that Natasha can deal with it on her own terms. Stalking wasn't a small thing, especially being in the Cerberus Squad where enemies were made quicker than friends, but the red-head and Al could definitely handle it, but... it might not be some small issue. It was a bit of a coincidence that all of this happens in the week after she was seen out in public with The Avengers, after her not so pleasant conversation with Stone, and before she went out on a date with Natasha... jealously could be a motive, maybe? There was no doubt that Al was an attractive woman and had a personality that could win anyone over, and the way she acted around Sam sometimes it would be easy to see how someone could be jealous. Telling Wilson would definitely be an issue since he loved Al pretty much more than himself and vice versa, and he would act impulsively when he found out. The way he almost knocked Stone's lights out when he laid a hand on her... it would only be ten times worse.

"Just keep it between me and Nat, J," Tony said in conclusion. "Keep an eye on Gunley, too. If anything happens to her, assemble The Avengers."

* * *

_**Natasha** _

"I... I can't thank you enough, Natasha," Alaina said outside of the elevator, biting her lip guiltily. "I know I kind of threw it on you when we were supposed to have lunch, but..."

"You don't have to apologise." She smiled softly, taking a step closer so only inches separated them. Natasha brought a hand up to cup the taller woman's head, slender fingers weaving through the hair on the side of her head. Her thumb gently rubbed above a dark eyebrow. She saw Alaina's lip part and her eyes widen slightly at the affection. She needed comfort. "Did you know," she whispered, "that I love your smile? I get butterflies whenever you smile at me."

Alaina couldn't help the large grin that crossed his face at that moment, and it earned one from Natasha in return.

"That's very homosexual of you, Ms. Romanoff," Al teased, the anxieties from the day melting from her face. "But I'll take it. If... it means we go out on another date?"

Natasha's stomach flared with emotion and her smile only brightened. "It was kind of implied at the end of our last one, but yeah. Another date sounds good. You can pick where we go this time."

"I don't know," Alaina shrugged, "you really outdid yourself last time. I don't think I can one-up a night under the stars."

"I'm sure you'll think of something." She couldn't even hide her  _wow-you're-so-amazing-what-have-I-done-to-deserve-you_  smile. The kind of smile she would give to Clint when he'd have a little too much to drink and start talking about porcupines, or the occasional one she gave to Steve when he opened up about his past. The kind of smile that was reserved for the people she really gave a shit about. Reluctantly, Natasha lowered her hand from Alaina's face and took a small step back, eyes twinkling at the smile in her gaze, the genuine part of a smile. "You should get back to work. I'll call you tomorrow, Alaina."

Alaina pulled her lips between her teeth and turned, walking into the elevator. With a gleeful nod, the doors closed between the two women.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of background and exposition in here (sorry if you hate exposition but it's easy to write so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ deal with it). Some GAY SHIT because I've been reading a lot of SamSteve, SteveBucky and SteveTony fics recently (you can ship Steve with literally anyone it's great) and I wanted it.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and thanks for the comments!


	24. Big Day

_**Alaina** _

_Frank wasn't there yet. Sam, Riley, Billy, Curtis, Gunner, they were all there, even Agent Asshole and Major Schoonover who she knew hated her more than anything. The President wasn't there but Alaina couldn't give two shits about the President or government right now, she just wanted to see Frank._

_The pains in her chest were constant, borderline unbearable when she stressed like she is now, but it was something she could deal with. She had Riley on one side and Sam on the other, Billy and Curtis sat close by, a glass of champagne sat in front of her although the doctor advised for her not to drink. If she could take shots to the chest, she can definitely handle a glass of alcoholic grapes._

_There were circular tables spread around the large room, a stage centred at the front but no one was occupying that area, only a few of the older veterans and people who had disabilities due to the war. Everyone else was walking around and talking, crowded around the bar where Al was seated. Sam was beginning to get drunk, she could see him and Curt laughing loudly much to the annoyance of the people around them but it was nice. A bit like a crossover since Al knew them in different universes, different periods of her life._

_They were wearing standard military uniforms designed for events like this, navy green blazers, navy green trousers, and black shoes. The higher ranking authorities had black uniforms, expensive looking with badges lining their blazer's breast. Agent Asshole - she learned his real name was William Rawlins - was on the other side of the room, talking with government officials who were there more for courtesy than anything else, a white bandage wrapped around his head and covering his right eye. It may have been stupid for Frank to knock his eye out, but god damn it was a nice sight. Pun intended._

_Al's uniform was scratching uncomfortable against the bandaged wound on her chest. Only five days out of the hospital and she had to receive her medal of honour, given no other choice. Curtis was in the same boat. His leg was amputated and the hospital didn't tell Al in case it would give her anxiety and make the pain worse._

_Setting down her drink, Alaina tapped Sam on the shoulder. He turned, pausing his conversation with Curtis and Billy. "I'm gonna go out for a breather," she told him with a tight smile._

_"Is it the pain?" he asked, frowning._

_"Nah," Al shook her head, "I took about three gallons of morphine before I got here. Just want a few minutes to myself without anyone calling it a privilege to be talking to me."_

_"Ah, got it," Sam smiled. He was one of the few that truly understood her anxiety. It started before she even thought about signing up, but being a soldier certainly didn't help. "Call if you need anything, babe."_

_She leaned over and kissed his cheek as a silent thank you, not missing the dismayed look it earned from Billy. Working her way through the crowd, Al put on a large smile and politely greeted the people stopped her as she walking. She was getting closer to Rawlins whose eye followed her, glaring in contempt. Al ignored it and pushed through the front doors, noting that several people were crowded together in a group, smoking and laughing. She ducked around the corner to avoid being detected and kept walking until she reached the gate that led to the back, making sure that no one else was around as she pulled out a cigarette._

_"Hey there, slugger."_

_Al sighed, digging around her pocket for a lighter. "What do you want?" she asked impatiently._

_Billy shrugged, hands lazily slung in the pockets of his trousers. "Wanna make sure you're okay."_ _She ignored him, pulled out her lighter and pushed the end of her cig into her mouth. "Should you be smoking?"_

_"Nope." Al successfully lit the cigarette and blew out a long puff of smoke, watching as it disintegrated in the air._

_"Al," Billy's eyes turned upset, "you can't keep hurting yourself like this."_

_"This isn't the first time I've smoked, Bill."_

_"You were just shot in the lung," he pointed out. "You_ died _, Ally."_

_"Jesus, you sound like Sam," she muttered, throwing the unsmoked stick onto the floor and stepping on it with the heel of her toe._

_"And? He's right," Billy said, taking a step forward. Alaina was facing the wall, head turned away from her friend but he was still looking at her as though she was looking back at him. "Do you know how... how_ frightening _it was when the doctors told us you were in unstable condition?"_

_Her lips tightened. "I don't need a guilt trip-"_

_"Well, tough luck. Because you're gonna hear it," he snapped. Billy's head turned away for a moment and he ran a hand over the growing stubble on his chin, jaw tightening. "After you ran in after Frank, the bullets stopped coming our way. Most of us died, Curt was passed out and_ looked _dead, and I thought I wasn't going to make it because... the bullets, all the guns, were going for you and Frank, so I thought that it would be my time right after. So I took a chance and I ran through no man's land." He paused. She didn't know he did that. "I only saw dead enemies, everywhere, and I just knew that it was you. It wasn't us, it was you because you took a chance and ran in, and you won. I-I can't even describe that feeling when I heard your voice again. When I heard Frank. But as soon as I walked in, I saw... you were on the floor, bleeding out." His voice shook. "Frank was holding you and you were- you were dead. You were, my friend was dead, right there in front of me."_

_"Billy..."_

_"No." He let out a breath through his nose. Al's eyes jerked towards his and she saw that he was teary. His throat bobbed. "I'm not guilt tripping you, I'm just telling you how I felt, at that moment. I'm not Frank, I don't have a wife and children, I don't even have a family. Mom left, Dad beat me til I cried, I was an only kid, but meeting you... It sounds stupid, I know, but it was like I found something to live for, like Frank lives for Maria. You- You're like a sister to me, a big sister who always tries to protect me and a little sister who I just want to protect. Thinking of you dying..." Billy shook his head like he couldn't handle the thought. His eyes watered and a few tears escaped, running down his cheek and disappearing in the dark hair lining his cheek. "It's a thing, right? We hide our pain, us soldiers. We suck it up and deal with it because we can't do anything else."_

_"Bill," Alaina whispered, reaching over to grab his hand in hers. He accepted the gesture but kept his head hung down. "Hey, Billy, look at me." His moist eyes flickered to hers, lips set in a hard line. "I wouldn't ever leave you like that, you got me? If I'm too fucking stubborn to be shot in the chest and not die, and then go to a citation a few weeks later, I can promise you that I'm not leaving you until you've had enough of me."_

_Billy sent her a watery smile. "Right back at ya, Gunley," he said, straightening up. He wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. "We should head back inside. Don't want any scandals to pop up."_

_Al smiled through a chewed lip. "Come on, then."_

* * *

Alaina had her phone gripped tightly in her hand, unsure if she was making the right choice. Frank's contact screen was lit up in front of her, her finger hovering over the call button.

It didn't feel right going back to her apartment, knowing that someone was stalking her, so after leaving the Tower, Al hopped onto her bike - by far the  _best_  present ever - and drove to her Dad's. Sam was there with Paul, his Dad, too, and Alaina was so thankful even though Sam had no idea what was going on in her life. Knowing that Pop wasn't at home alone constantly, it filled her with a sense of relief. Sometimes, stalkers went after family members and she didn't have many that she knew of.

Alaina was on the roof of her Dad's apartment, back against a brick wall and. Sam said she better not be having a smoke and she assured him that it was a one-time thing, and then left. Her Dad was sat in the living room with Paul, watching a re-run of Jeopardy while talking about football and drinking beer. Typical fathers.

Maybe calling Frank would be the dumbest thing that Al had ever thought about doing. Billy and Curt never mentioning him as a telltale sign that he wanted little to do with her, and she knew for a fact that he was still in contact with the two so he must have told them. They hadn't spoken for years until he called her out of the blue.

Shit.

Should she really do this? He might have known what's going on with Bucky and everything else. But if it was serious, he would have just found her, right? Then again, Frank could be a petty asshole.

Okay. She should do this.

Al hit the call button and held the phone to her ear.

_Ring ring, ring ring, ring ring, ring ring..._

It went to voicemail. Al was nearly relieved that he didn't pick up.

"Uh, hey Frank," she started, scuffing her toe against the concrete. "I know I shouldn't have hung up on you like I did last week. A lot's been going on and you calling me from nowhere was a... it was a surprise, to say the least. We haven't talked in ages and, well, you said you needed my help. I know..." Al sighed, "I know the way things ended wasn't... it wasn't good. I've never held any of it against you, you know? You might have told Maria about it and- and I hope I didn't fuck up your marriage or anything. It's all water under the bridge, or whatever that saying means." She let out a breathy chuckle. "Try and call back when you can. And if you're listening to this and decided not to pick up, I understand, Frank. We should, just grab Billy and Curt and go out for drinks and catch up one day. I don't think we ever did that, really, not while we were serving. Anyway, I'll, uh, leave you to it. I'm seeing Billy soon so ask him to pass on a message or something. Bye."

* * *

_**Frank** _

He listened to the message with a heaving chest, arm and body straining against the ropes securing him to a chair. The man stood in front of him had Frank's phone in his hand, eyes drawn to it like a magnet as he smirked lazily.

"Isn't that just  _fascinating?_ " the man asked, focusing his attention back on Frank. He pocketed the phone in his suit and stepped towards his prisoner. "Little Miss Gunley doesn't know about what happened to your gorgeous wife? Or your cute kiddos?"

Frank grunted through the duct tape, fists clenching. His wrists were burning hot from rope burn, likely bleeding, but he hardly noticed it. Anger was raging inside him. The man was going to hurt Alaina like they hurt Maria.

"Nah, don't worry," the man said. He was leaning over Frank, looking down on him. "I won't do anything to Gunley, at least nothing that will seriously harm her." He chuckled. "She's too extraordinary to let waste. You, however," he tapped his chin, "you're... expendable. A good fighter, sure, an excellent gunman, definitely, but there's something about you I just... don't like. Your spirit is unbreakable, I can already tell, and that's a good thing, Castle. You were taught that kinda thing before you joined Cerberus, yeah? I bet you've been tortured so many times its child play to you now. Gunley is more trusting, she's more vulnerable. Did you know that she's friends with the Avengers now? Yeah, didn't think you did." His lips pulled back in a grin. "Going straight for her isn't the smartest idea which I why I have you here, champ. You're important to her, she'll come running for you if I call, and she won't risk getting you hurt. So," he clapped his hands together loudly, right in front of Frank's face, "I'm going to leave you here for a while. No pain to focus on, no-"

"Sir?" a meek voice called out. Someone ran into the room, eyes darting nervously between Frank and the man. "Russo is meeting up with Gunley tomorrow morning. Would you like me to-?"

"Yes, yes," he waved his hand around, "just make sure they're both here before Stark finds out."

"Of course." And then he was out as quick as he was in.

"You're gonna have a  _lot_  of time to think about life and what the point of it is. But hey, apparently you haven't seen your good buddy for years. You'll be seeing here tomorrow, Castle. It's gonna be a  _big_  day."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally wrote out an entire 2k chapter but reread it and realised that I hated it, so here's something that I wrote in like 2 hours! To be honest I don't like this one that much but it's very plot-centric, some more background to Al and Billy, Frank has been kidnapped?! What to heck?!?!?! How do y'all think this is gonna go down? Who do you think the man was? Such mystery.
> 
> This is a Natasha Romanoff fluffy romance fic I promise, but there needs to be angst. There's gonna be a lot of angst and sadness.
> 
> Despite that ominous final comment, hope you enjoyed!


	25. What a Stoner

**_Alaina_ **

"You actually told your superior to screw himself?" she asked, a bright smile on her face. "I swear, you're getting worse than me, Bill."

Billy Russo returned her smile with his own, brown eyes twinkling. "Well, now he knows not to ask me to bring him coffee," he said self-satisfied. "I'm a Senior Manager, not a barista. This is Armani, for goodness sake." He smoothed down the front of his suit.

They were sat in Billy's luxurious penthouse apartment, drinking coffee while catching up. Al wanted to go to the coffee shop like they always did, but he insisted on sitting somewhere with central heating, and she wasn't going to refuse sitting in an apartment too expensive for her taste.

"You're such a rich prick, you know that?" she asked, laughing quietly with a shake of her head. "Even Tony Stark isn't this bad."

"How's that going, anyway?" Billy asked. It took a bit of coaxing for her to tell him about The Avengers, but she trusted him with it. She hasn't told him about her and Natasha's kind of relationship or about Bucky, obviously, and she kept private stuff private, but he knew the general gist.

Al shrugged. "Going good. Clint wants to go out to lunch soon, I think he invited Wanda and Vision, too."

"Man, it's crazy how obsessed you were with him," he said, leaning back in his seat. "Everyone loved Captain America but you always had a thing for Hawkeye. Actually, I think I remember Curt saying that he'd..."

"That he'd pound Captain America until he was the size of Mexico? Yeah, I don't think anyone could ever forget that." Al grimaced. Drunk Curtis Hoyle meant horny Curtis Hoyle. "Can't believe that was... what? Over five years ago?"

"I know," Billy agreed. "Everyone's doing different shit now. You're a teacher, Curt's counselling, I'm working under Rawlins-"

"I can't believe you  _still_  want to work under that asshole," Al intercepted. "You should punch his other eye out so he can't see your mistakes."

"Still can't believe Frankie did that." He laughed, but then it faded. A look of sadness took over his face.

"Have you... heard from him recently?" she decided to ask. Maybe he knew what was going on with Frank?

"Nah." He shook his head, fidgeting slightly. Al frowned. He was reacting strangely to Frank's name, which never happened. "Last I heard, he was going to Arizona or something."

"Arizona?" she repeated. "No, he can't be... He tried calling last week, said that he's in deep shit or something." Al stared at Billy, who refused to meet her gaze. "Do you know something I don't?"

Billy didn't respond.

Something struck her neck.

And then she was met with black.

* * *

_**Sam** _

He was shaking violently, feet itching to move, hands clasped together, wrung together, to stop himself from hitting something, or someone. More specifically, Tony Stark.

The billionaire looked guilty, at least, as he explained the situation to the team. Explained how he didn't tell anyone right away that Al was in danger. Explained that Al was missing without a trace. His best friend was gone, possibly dead.

Sam could feel Steve's presence at his side, and he was thankful he was there, sat next to him, not offering any kind of comfort or words of wisdom, but his head hung tiredly between his shoulders. The only person he would listen to was Alaina, but she wasn't here right now.

The only people treating the situation like a mission was Vision, Thor, Natasha and Tony, although Tony's lip quivered as he spoke, as he asked Jarvis if he got anything new. Clint tapped his foot impatiently, arms crossed over his chest as he glanced out of the window, as if Al would be right there, Wanda had a worried crease between her eyebrows, Sam was on the brink of having a panic attack, and it seemed like Steve was itching to leave, to go out and find her.

"We need to treat this like any other kind of hostage situation," Natasha, the voice of reason, spoke up.

Sam shook his head, a bitter smile appearing on his lips. "Like any other kind of hostage situation," he repeated blankly, looking up to meet the redhead's gaze. "This isn't just any hostage situation. She's gone because of us, this is linked to  _us_. She might be dead." He flinched at his own words.

"I'm not saying that we shouldn't take action-"

"That's rich," he cut her off, standing up. "When Al told you that she was being followed, that someone almost killed her in her own apartment, you didn't take any damn action then!"

"Sam..." Steve whispered.

"No." His fist clenched, and Natasha seemed unphased by his outburst. That just irritated him more. "You promised me that you wouldn't hurt her. That should include telling us she's in danger as soon as you hear it." He looked around at his teammates, heart throbbing. "I'm going out and I'm finding her. Now. I don't care if any of you join me. My best friend is out there, my  _sister_  is out there, and I'm not sitting on my ass until some AI tells us-"

" _Sir_ ," Jarvis cut off, timing perfect as always.

"God," Sam muttered, throwing his hands in the air.

" _I have narrowed down the results of the man who entered Miss Gunley's_   _apartment and almost killed her, and there is only one suspect_."

"Spit it out, J." Tony sighed.

" _James Buchanan Barnes_."

Steve startled at that, raising his head with wide eyes. "Bucky?" he repeated. "Bucky's in New York? He didn't... He didn't hurt Alaina, right? He didn't capture her?"

" _No, Captain_ ," Jarvis replied calmly. " _He entered Miss_ Gunley's _apartment approximately 5 minutes ago, I believe to search for her. If you leave now, you should make it on time._ "

* * *

**_Alaina_ **

"Hng..."

Her brain pounded against her skull.

God, where the hell was she?

Alaina's eyes slowly opened, strained against the dim light hanging above her and something dripped down her temple. She moved her hand to wipe whatever it was away, but she was unable to.

Looking down, she realised that her arms were restrained. She was secured tightly to a wooden chair.

Before panic could set in, a voice spoke up from behind her.

"Miss Gunley!" the man exclaimed loudly, clapping his hands over her shoulders, making her flinch under his touch. "Good to see you're finally awake. Gosh, the suspense was killing me." He stepped out in front of her, and she couldn't hide the wide-eyed look that took over her expression. "Plot-twist, right? Or was it really a plot-twist? You're pretty smart, you know? Much smarter than Frank Castle, I'll tell you that."

"What the fuck have you done to him?" she growled out, fists clenching beneath the restraints. "And where's Billy?"

The man smirked. "Don't you worry, sweet girl." He ran a hand through Al's hair. It could have mistaken for affection, if not for the circumstances. "Now, you're probably curious as to why you're here."

"Nope," she stated. "I don't give two shits, to be honest. You're still a limp-dicked prick, asshole."

Tiberius Stone's smirk widened. "You're not going to like what's in store for you, Miss Gunley," he said. "Not one bit."


	26. Erectile Dysfunction Can Make Anyone Mad

_**Bucky** _

He knew that they were zeroing in on her. Frank Castle was gone, her father wasn't at his apartment, and there were people tailing her to her school every day. He wanted to wait until they were all in one place so he could take them out quickly, but it was too late.

Alaina Gunley was gone without a trace. And it was all his fault.

There was a notebook sitting out on her table, leather bound and old-fashioned, the edges worn. It reminded Bucky of something... of someone. He didn't know who until he opened it and read the name written in black pen on the inside.

_Steven Grant Rogers._

The man who saved him from drowning. His best friend who he couldn't remember.

He flipped the page, reading the first passage.

_I basically lived at Bucky's house after my mom died. He had an Italian neighbour who would always make us spaghetti or homemade pizzas, and she would let us sit outside in her back garden - it was huge, with deck chairs that were directly in the sun - and she would always give us lemonades with those little umbrellas and ice cubes. I told Tony about it and now he orders Dum-E (this dumb and pretty useless robot he made but won't destroy) to bring me a glass of iced lemonade with an umbrella whenever it's too hot. I wish Bucky was here, though. So we could drink it together, like old times._

Bucky's breathing came in heavier as his head started to pound. His mind was reaching out to grasp the memory, but he couldn't reach it. He wanted to but couldn't.

"Buck?"

The soldier spun around, immediately aiming his gun at the intruder with the notebook still in his flesh hand. Two men stood in front of him, the same build, one shorter than the other...

Captain America. And the man with the wings. Sam Wilson.

"We're not here to hurt you," Steve said, holding his hands out to show he wasn't armed. He wore his uniform, the same dark blue one Bucky almost killed him in, with the shield stapled to his back. He could sense his calmness. Bucky trusted him, but the other man, Sam Wilson, looked enraged. His eyebrows were pulled together with his fists clenched by his sides. "We're looking for Alaina Gunley. Do you know where she is? Or who took her?"

With hesitation, dark eyes darting between the two men, Bucky lowered the gun but kept it in his grip, finger hovering over the trigger. "No," he answered.

"Then why are you here?" Sam asked, moving to take a step forward but Steve held him back. His voice was shaky, filled with worry and anger. "You almost killed her, didn't you? Last week?" Bucky flinched. He didn't mean to hurt her like he did. He was trying to look out for her. "Why the hell are you looking for her, Barnes?"

Bucky's lips parted and his hand tightened around the journal. "She helped me," he whispered. "Even after I hurt her, she still helped me." He should have been concerned with being found after years of hiding, but right now, he wanted to help Alaina like she helped him, even if it meant being exposed to the people that wanted him dead. He didn't deserve her kindness or hospitality, yet she still offered it to him. Even after knowing his identity.

Snapping his eyes back up to theirs, Bucky ignored the strange gazes he was receiving and continued. "She isn't the only one who's gone missing."

"Wha- What do you mean?" Sam asked, all traces of anger leaving his voice, replaced by tension. "Who else is gone?"

"Frank Castle has been off the radar for a week and Billy Russo went missing at the same time as Alaina. I... I couldn't track down her father," Bucky informed. Sam squeezed his eyes together and turned around, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm sorry."

"You fucking will be," Sam muttered. Bucky felt a pang in his chest, something unfamiliar to him. "Steve, I-I can't... They're my family."

"We'll find them, Sam," Steve stated firmly, clapping a hand on his friend's back before squeezing his shoulder. "She's only been gone for a few hours. She won't be far."

* * *

**_Alaina_ **

Tiberius Stone lounged on the rickety table in front of Alaina's trapped body, only a few feet away from her, staring her down with a small smirk nudging at his lips. It was the same one he used when he first approached her outside the gala, a cocky smile, like he knew exactly what he wanted and was going to get it no matter what.

"Are you doing this because of the boner diss?" she eventually asked, tapping her foot against the concrete floor. She was covered in ropes; around her waist, securing each limb to the legs and arms of the chair. If only she was Captain America, so she could get herself out of these stupid restraints. "Because that's pretty pathetic, even for someone like you. I'm pretty sure it's common for guys between forty and fifty, you know, and you're, what? In your 30s? An early bloomer for erectile dysfunction kinda sucks. Huh," she huffed out a laugh, "that'd make a great title for an autobiography." Stone's expression didn't falter in the slightest, so Al continued. "Or is it Avengers related? Again, pathetic, but more plausible than insinuating that you can't get it up. Hm, what else...?" She tilted her head back in thought, pulling her lips between her teeth. "You know about my military background, so you could be looking for intel. It'd explain why you went after Castle and Russo, not just me, not like any of us would actually give up information because you're a huge asshole and we were tortured before we joined Cerebus. To make sure we could withstand it. Waterboarding, electroshock therapy, emotional manipulation... Also, if you're planning on torturing me in this abandoned warehouse, then you're the most basic and predictable villain I know."

"This is only temporary," he spoke, voice dripping over her like honey mixed with venom. "Very,  _very_  temporary. As for my plans... well, it's a mix of everything, you see." His fingers tapped against the edge of the table. Alaina couldn't wait until she broke every single one of them. "The threats you made towards me only helped, the, uh,  _boner diss_  as you so kindly called it, but that's not to say I don't like you. I respect you a lot, soldier to soldier."

 _I would have reacted the same, soldier to soldier_ , Steve said to her on the night of the gala. After Stone threatened to strip her of her ranks.

"Just because you pointed a gun in the direction of the enemy and fired doesn't automatically make you a good person," Al stated, levelling her head to meet his ever bright eyes. Her fingernail scratched at the wood beneath her hand, subtly enough so the man wouldn't notice. "You're not a soldier, Stone. You need to have courage to be a soldier."

"And Riley Harper had courage, didn't he?" Stone asked. She went still beneath the ropes, jaw twitching. "Yeah, when he told you to leave, to evacuate the area." He leaned down, planting his hands on the back of the chair, behind Al's shoulders, his warm breath hitting her face. "When he had that bomb planted inside his stomach. But you didn't listen, did you? You stayed while villagers fleed, to help him, to save your partner, to detonate the bomb. I bet you would've won another Medal of Honour for that, hm?" Her fingers ticked to grab him by the throat, but she couldn't. She was powerless. "Nah, you cut open his stomach with the medic on standby. You were so close to being the hero that day, but you made one teeny little mistake and he died. Exploded, right in front of you. I bet his insides were all over your outside, huh?"

"You're sick," she managed, voice wavering. She blocked that day out years ago.

"Maybe so." Stone smiled an ugly smile, nudging her chin upwards with his thumb and forefinger. "But just you wait until you meet the others, sweet girl. You're gonna crawl right back into my arms." He released her and stepped back to perch himself back on the table, flicking out his wrist to check his watch. "We have about another 5 minutes before you get picked up, so let's chat."

"Can't wait," she monotoned.

"Oh, I know," he breathed, grinning ear to ear. "I wanna hear more about your superhero friends, asides from what I already know. How's Tony?"

Alaina scoffed, lip curling in bewilderment. "You mean the man that you abused?" she asked.

"Now, I never laid one hand on him, at least a hand that he never wanted," Stone defended with a shrug. "He was just... vulnerable. After Obidiah betrayed him, when Pepper left, he was alone. He wanted someone to hold at night and whisper sweet nothings into his ear, and I happened to be that guy. I helped him, Miss Gunley." Did this prick actually believe a word he was spewing? "It was a shame he got too attached. I  _did_  remind him that he's... well, repulsive isn't the right word, but he had a tendency to drive people away, and I made sure he'd keep coming back. I never hit him, not once."

"Wow, so an  _emotional_  abuser?" Al scoffed in disgust. "Aren't you God's gift to mankind for not hitting the man you're supposed to love? You're kinda putting a dent in the gay agenda, bud."

"Ah!" His eyes lit up at that. "The gay agenda, that just reminded me... How's your precious Natalia doing?"

Alaina's expression dropped. "How do you know about that?"

"I have my resources." He shrugged again. "I like her, that Black Widow. But goodness, Natasha Romanoff? She is just a  _horrible_  woman." Keep your cool, Al. Do it for Frank. Do it for Billy. "Attractive,  _definitely_ , but she doesn't know how to act as a person, you know? Although, if she ever asked me what she's probably asked of you, I'd be an idiot to say no. I might even accept both of you."

"Do you realise how creepy that sounded out loud?"

"It sounded better in my head," Stone said, shaking away his thoughts. "And then there's Sam Wilson, your best buddy." He clapped his hands together, eyes twinkling at Al's instinctive reaction, which was to attempt to lurch forward. "An honourable man and an honourable soldier. But... desperate." He sighed. "He wanted to be something that he isn't cut out to be, isn't strong or particularly skilled; it was just a matter of luck that he bumped into Steve Rogers. Ah, yes! Steve Rogers..."

"Are you actually going to stand here and insult all of my friends for the next 5 minutes?" Al asked, trying to suppress her anger. He had the gall to insult Sam in front of  _her?_  Call her friend desperate and  _weak_ to her face?

"Not insulting them, just pointing out their flaws," he corrected. "But Steve Rogers doesn't deserve that title,  _Captain America_. Maybe he did when he killed Nazis back in the day, but today? After abandoning his entire country in order to find his World War 2 boyfriend? No, he doesn't."

Don't argue back, Al. Keep your cool.

"Of course, there's Tony. Weak. He is so  _weak_. You called me pathetic, but if you got to know him more, you'd turn around and head in the other direction. So much baggage for such a little man, so much anxiety for a tiny mind."

Don't lash out. Do it for Frank. Do it for Billy. For Sam. For Natasha. For your dad. For Steve. For Tony.

"Let's see... Clint Barton, of course. He's a forgettable character. The Avengers would benefit without him, I think. With a team full of Gods and super soldiers, what are a bow and arrow going to do?"

Don't lash out. Do it for Frank. Do it for Billy. For Sam. For Natasha. For your dad. For Steve. For Tony. For Clint.

"And Bruce Banner..."

"Is a liability, he's too angry for his own good and will get his team killed," Al finished, cocking her head to the side. "I'm good at bullshitting, too."

A car honked outside, just as Stone's lip twitching downwards, the first negative reaction she has thus received from the man. Without another word, he whipped out a gun from the back of his pants and hit Alaina over the head, knocking her unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been thinking of publishing a new series for one-shots since I started my break because I have so many things written about things I wouldn't expand into full-blown fics, but someone else might want to take that idea and run with it. And because I just love writing. Tell me what you'd think of that.
> 
> Thanks for the lovely comments, as always:)


	27. Jeremy Kyle?

_**Tony** _

He had his face buried in his hands, elbows resting on the table as he tried holding back an anxiety attack. Or tears. Either way, the guilt ate at him.

Tony locked himself in his lab as soon as Sam and Steve left to find Barnes. To find the man that murdered his parents, the likely cause of Alaina Gunley going missing. He brought down a bottle of whiskey to drink away his feelings, but no matter how many times Tony fell down that hole, it never made him feel better. It made him angry, bitter towards everyone around him. To Steve for hiding the cause of his parents' deaths from him, to Bruce for being too god damn nice to him, and Pepper because she left him. And she was probably never coming back. All because Tony fucked up massively.

Al... God, she wasn't what Tony expected, not one bit. He was ready to see a broken shell of a woman ruined by her experience with war, someone constantly on guard and didn't trust anyone, but she was the complete opposite. Right away, she treated everybody like a friend. She wasn't deterred by Tony's status one bit, didn't let it affect the way they talked and didn't ask him any uncomfortable questions about his suit. Instead, she asked about the man underneath. Not Tony Stark: genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, but Tony Stark: the man without the wealth. When she defended him against Stone, he was pissed off beyond belief. Pissed that she could hurt his reputation and pissed that she could get herself in a lot of trouble for it, but when he yelled at her - when this woman yelled at  _him_  - it clicked. It resonated that she didn't do it to hurt him, but she did it to hurt Stone and to have Tony's back. There was no selfish motive behind it, and that was crazy to him. He only met her once before and sure, he got her a new job, but she did it with no ulterior motive in mind.

Alaina was a kind person, end of.

So why the hell didn't Tony do anything as soon as he heard she was in trouble?

Just one order to Jarvis, asking him to assemble The Avengers, and she would be safe.

She could be dead because of him.

Grabbing the neck of the half-full whiskey bottle, Tony threw it against the wall in rage, letting out a frustrated scream when the glass shattered into a thousand pieces.

Why was he such a fuck up?

In the midst of his thoughts, Rhodey had walked into the lab after a quiet recommendation from Jarvis to check in on him. Tony didn't hear him enter, didn't see him step over the broken bottle, or feel him take a seat next to him until a hand was placed on his shoulder. Tony jumped at the unexpected contact but kept his head where it was, hanging between his shoulders.

"Honeybun?" his life-long friend asked quietly. Life-long friends, just like Sam and Al. If Sam did to Rhodey what Tony did to her, he would blast him off the roof of The Tower without hesitation. Sam deserved to kill him. "How much have you been drinking?"

Tony shrugged a shoulder, hiding his quivering lip in the crook of his elbow.

"Pepper's on her way back from Malibu," Rhodey informed. "She doesn't want me to tell you this, but she forgave you a long time ago, Tones. She never hated you."

He didn't want Pepper to forgive him, he wanted Pepper to hate him until the day he died. She died because of him. He watched her fall into the fire, watched her scream his name and she burned to death.

Tony didn't feel the tears run down his cheeks. He didn't know that sobs were beginning to wrack his body until Rhodey wrapped an arm around him.

He turned into the hug, hiding his face in his friend's shoulder, and cried.

* * *

Later on, with Rhodey's help, Tony sobered up by drinking copious amounts of water and having an ice-cold shower. He still felt the lingering sense of doubt, the guilt of Alaina's absence, but it was with a clear head, at least.

Now, he was donned in his armour, faceplate down, sat on the table in the meeting room as he waited for the rest of the team to arrive, with Rhodey on his left, also wearing his War Machine armour. He knew Sam and Steve were searching for Bucky - they hadn't updated him on their situation yet - Natasha went out to search Billy Russo's apartment and Frank Castle's house with Wanda, so they would be gone for a few more hours, and Thor travelled back to Asgard in case it was Loki-related - it wouldn't have been the first time the trickster pulled something like this - so that left Tony, Clint, Vision and Rhodey to do the rest.

Vision came in through the floor which shouldn't have been much of a surprise, but it still freaked Tony the hell out, and Clint appeared not too long later, wearing his suit with his bow and arrow in hand, quiver strapped to his back.

"What's the plan?" Clint asked first, for once, acting seriously.

"Jarvis has a lead," Tony began. "Nothing solid, at least not until the others get back with more to work on, but there was suspicious activity. A bunch of cars turned up at an abandoned factory in Pennsylvania around the time Gunley went missing and left about an hour later. No CCTV inside, but we might get something from another angle. Or a clue." He turned to Vision, who wore a look of worry on his android face. "You stay at the Tower with J, work together to find anything on her whereabouts. We'll call if we need you."

"Of course." Vision nodded, clasping his hands together.

"Good. Then let's get going."

* * *

_**Alaina** _

She woke up for the second time that day with her heart in her throat, hands shaking like crazy. It felt like the air around her was cold, but she couldn't physically feel the cold.

Just like in the warehouse, she was restrained to another chair, but instead of a rickety wooden chair that could break with one hit, she was attached to a metal chair with belt-like buckles restricting movement in her wrists and ankles. However, she was in a completely different area; built like an interrogation room with the metal table in the centre and a one-way mirror where someone was likely watching her. Or even people.

Alaina looked down at herself and realised her normal clothes were gone, replaced by a thin white top which sleeves went down to her elbows, and a matching pair of white leggings. That's when she noticed the other things attached to her. Two thick cables wrapped around her chest, one above and one below her breast, a pulse monitor wrapped around her thumb, and a needle injected in the crook of her elbow, pushing some clear liquid inside her body.

And then she saw the machine on the table.

She was about to do a polygraph. A lie detector test, just like she did before joining Cerebus.

On cue, the door swung open and in stepped two unfamiliar men. One was old, small and skinny, with thinning white hair and clothes that looked far too big for his frame, while the other was the opposite. A burly man, a guard of some kind, wearing full body armour, a heavy gun settled in his gloved hands. He had a large scar running up the side of his throat, to his jaw, cheek, and then ended on his temple. It didn't look fresh, but judging by the rawness of it, it was done pretty recently.

"Miss Gunley," the smaller man greeted with a small nod, shutting the door behind him. The guard stood by the door, eyeing the restrained woman like he was a wild animal. "My name is Doctor Mitchell." A pretty European name, and he had a slight accent. It wasn't British or anything Al recognised, but it wasn't American. "We won't be here for long. It's just standard procedure."

She didn't respond, keeping her lips pressed together as she surveyed the man. He was favouring his left leg as he walked to the chair opposite Al's, and his eyebrows pulled together in a wince as he lowered himself onto the seat.

"I've been informed that you already know what this is, so I won't explain it," Mitchell continued, nodding to the machine, oblivious to the woman as she studied him. "However, I'm sure your curious about the needle." No shit, jackass. "It will help relax your senses, so the chances of you tricking the polygraph is even slimmer." As if she could cheat it, regardless. "So, we'll get right into it." He pressed something in front of him, a button on the polygraph, and placed a piece of paper on the table in front of him. At this angle, and because the machine was covering her view, she couldn't see what was written. Probably the questions. "First, we'll start simple. What's your name?"

"Where am I?"

Mitchell looked up when she asked, not shocked, but as though he was expecting it. "Someone else will give you that information," he answered briefly. "Now, I'll repeat the question. What is your name?"

She wanted to press, to pick a fight so badly, but she didn't know what she was dealing with, what was on the other side of that door, so she answered. "Alaina Gunley."

"Correct," Mitchell hummed, jotting something down on the paper with a black pen. "Question 2. Do you have a close relationship with any of The Avengers?"

Her mouth dried up at the reminder of the team, of Sam. Were they looking for her? Of course, they were going to search for her, Sam would murder them all overwise.

"Yes," she replied coolly.

"Correct." He wrote something down again. The responses, most likely. "Have you ever risked your life for any of The Avengers?"

For Sam? Too many damn times.

"Yes."

"Good. Now, were you part of Cerebus Squad?"

Alaina almost did a double-take. Did they want information about Cerebus as well as The Avengers?

"Yes," she told him with a crease between her eyebrows.

"Did you stay in contact with anyone after leaving Cerebus?" Mitchell asked.

"Yes."

"Do these people include Frank Castle and Billy Russo?"

Al frowned then. Why just Frank and Billy in particular? Curt was still alive, as well as Gunner Henderson, and although Gunner's locked himself away for years, he's still a person of key interest. They were all big parts of the Squad. "Yes," she said.

"That was inconclusive," Mitchell told her. "I'll rephrase: Did you stay in contact with Frank Castle after leaving Cerebus?"

"I..." Al tightened her jaw. "Briefly."

The doctor nodded. "And did you stay in contact with Billy Russo after leaving Cerebus?"

"Yes."

"That's better," he murmured and wrote a few lines of something on the sheet. "Next question. Do you believe that, during your time in the army, before Cerebus, you were a better soldier than Sam Wilson?"

Alaina scoffed amusedly, her lips turning up at the corners despite herself. "No," she replied.

Mitchell ignored her reaction. "Now, would you sacrifice yourself for Sam Wilson?"

"Yes."

"No hesitation," he commented. "How honourable of you, Miss Gunley. I'm sure you'll be happy to hear that this is the final question, although we will be doing this every week until orders change." Did she just hear  _every week?_  God, she was going to be here a while, wasn't she? Al hoped that Stark's tech was as good as he boasted about it to be. "Last question. Do you think you deserve to live?"

Psychoanalysis, much? She had a degree in the course, for god's sake, but even then, a toddler would be able to notice that they were trying to get inside her head.

"Yeah," she answered honestly. "I do."

"Hm." Mitchell nodded, staring at the machine with a hint of something in his eyes. Al couldn't tell what it was, but she didn't like it. "Adrian," the guard stood in the corner, Al somehow forgot about him, in all honesty, straightened, "take her back to her cell."

The guard - Adrian - nodded and moved forward to her chair, holding the gun in one hand so he could take out the needle. She held back a grimace when it caught on the edge of her skin, cutting open the small hole where the needle entered and letting blood trickle, and focused on her surroundings.

The doctor was already gone, out of the room in a flash, and the door was shut. The machine, if she picked it up to whack the guard over his head, would slow her down, and she didn't want to be slow in front of a man holding a gun, so that wasn't an option. Stabbing him with the needle would be ineffective, it would hardly slow him down, and she guessed that the other weapons on his person would be secured and out of sight.

And then she got an idea as he removed the cables from her chest.

It was hard to wait. Alaina's fingers were itching to move into action, but she had to be patient.

He leaned down to undo the buckles around her feet first and then moved onto her wrists. He released the final buckle and gestured with his gun for Al to stand, so she did, and waited until he adjusted his gun to grab handcuffs before making a move.

With a quickness she didn't know she possessed, Al kicked the gun out Adrian's grasp, giving her room to rip the cable from its plug, and she latched herself on his back. Wrapping the thick cable around his throat, she used it as leverage to lean back, making him stumble into the one-way mirror behind them. She had her legs constricting his chest, leaving his arms trapped by his sides and gun useless on the floor, and her fists tightened on each end of the cable, pulling back as hard as she could so he couldn't escape.

Men barged into the room immediately, guns aimed in her direction, but she knew they wouldn't shoot with one of their men in the way. None moved closer to them. They were keeping their distance.

"Release him at once, Gunley!" one of them ordered harshly. It was Tiberius Stone, she realised, still wearing his tacky suit, but he had a frightened, angry look on his face that made her heart swell.

"Where am I?" she bit out between clenched teeth, eyes darting between each man. There was about a dozen altogether, huddled in the small room. Adrian struggled beneath her, hands coming up to grip the cable, but she was stronger than him. "Tell me where Frank is, where Billy is, answer my question, and I'll let go."

Stone's chest was heaving and his fists were clenched, turning white at the knuckles. "Bring him in."

Her grip faltered with a new, familiar face stepped through. It was enough for Adrian to let go of the cable around his neck, reach up, and slam his fist across Al's temple. She went sprawling on the floor but she couldn't feel the impact, the pain, not when  _his_  face was staring down at her, eyes wide, mouth gaping like he was going to say something.

"Frank?" she whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this is kind of a turn around from the cute fluffy romance you were expecting, right? Natasha POV next, so look forward to that. Hint: it's full of angst. This story is going to be full of angst for a while, don't hate me.
> 
> Also if you have never watched The Jeremy Kyle Show, what are you doing? He is my God and everything I aspire to be as a Brit (yeah, I'm British by the way, if you haven't already noticed).
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and tell me what you thought!


	28. Stitches

**_Natasha_ **

After they finished searching Billy Russo's apartment, after scouring every inch of Frank Castle's house, after travelling endlessly with Wanda at her side, Natasha felt defeated. They had nothing. Besides from Castle's excessive amount of guns stored in his back garden shed - Wanda found a permit for each and every one so that was in the clear - and the fact everyone was missing, there was nothing of interest, nothing suspicious that would lead them to Alaina.

Her fingers trailed over the family photos of Frank, his wife and two kids, and she wondered briefly... it was stupid. They've only known each other for a few weeks and have only gone on one date, but she wondered if she missed out on something, losing Alaina. Natasha wasn't like Steve who always tried to think positively, who kept reassuring her that she was alive, but Natasha was a realist. The chances of Alaina being alive were slim, and it hurt Natasha to think that. Maybe one day as Sam suggested before their date there would have been a future for them, even a wedding if she wanted to really stretch it.

_"You think I'm pretty?" Natasha asked, unable to hide her huge smile._

_"Well, you have literally no physical imperfections."_

Natasha pushed those thoughts away. It was her fault, after all, just as Sam said. She promised she would protect Alaina and she failed to do that. To do that one simple promise, the only thing that Sam wanted.

She pulled away from the happy family photo and walked backwards until the backs of her knees hit the coffee table and slumped. Natasha Romanoff, a master assassin, the Black Widow, member of The Avengers, slumped.

Wanda appeared in the doorway at that moment, her red hair as vibrant as ever, with a sombre expression on her delicate face. On steady feet, she walked towards Natasha and sat down next to her, regarding her carefully.

"You feel guilty," she stated, accent heavy.

"I wonder why." Natasha chuckled hollowly, rubbing her hands in front of her. The same hands Alaina held under the stars.

Wanda hummed quietly, still staring openly at Natasha. They've been friends long enough that she would feel her inside her head, but Wanda wouldn't do that, anyway. They trusted each other. "That is all I can feel," she said, turning away from Natasha to gaze at the photo she was looking at before. "Tony feels guilt. Steve feels guilt. Sam feels guilt. Clint feels guilt. And now you feel it, too."

"They shouldn't feel guilty."

"Neither should you," Wanda countered. "Alaina did not want you to tell anyone else about what happened, and you respected her wishes. You didn't want to hurt her, Nat."

"That doesn't mean I should have left it," the other woman pointed out with a small shrug. "A non-action is still an action."

"So should I feel guilty for not reading her mind?" Wanda asked. "Should Sam feel guilty for not realising something was wrong? Should Tony feel guilty for not tracking her everywhere she went?"

Natasha didn't know how to respond. She knew that Wanda was right, that she shouldn't keep blaming herself, but she couldn't help it. She was still party responsible.

"You know," Wanda continued, standing up from her seat to get a closer look at Castle's family photo. Like Natasha did before, she traced a finger over the faces. "When I first met Alaina at the gala, I could feel her comfort and happiness. Whenever she looked at you, I sensed her heart beat faster and swell with adoration and nervousness." Natasha's lip quirked at that, and a warm feeling settled in her stomach. "And whenever you looked back at her, I could feel your heart beat faster. You smile at her. Not like you smile with the team, but a smile full of hope. Like when Pepper and Tony are together, or how Thor used to look at Jane." Did she do that? The assassin hasn't even noticed. "She is a survivor, Nat. I think she will do anything to go on another date with you."

Wanda turned her head to face Natasha, whose smile turned into a soft laugh.

Maybe she did have hope that Alaina was still alive.

* * *

**_Steve_ **

When Sam paced, Steve knew it wasn't a good sign. But when Sam paced after finding out his best friend was being followed for months without anybody realising, it was made even worse.

Maybe it was bad that Steve was treating this like a normal mission instead of thinking that his friend has just been kidnapped, but he had an obligation to be the Captain, the authoritative figure of The Avengers with a clear mind. So, he let Sam have his outburst. He stood by patiently as Sam berated Bucky, who was stood stoically still like a child being yelled at by his parent, and placed a light hand on his shoulder when he finished, giving a small nod. Sam's face was red - with fear or anger? It was difficult to tell - and his chest heaved with each breath he gave.

Steve felt for him, he truly did. Maybe he didn't know what he was really going through since Steve watched Bucky fall off the train and die, but he knew what it was like to feel helpless in that situation. He wrote about it in the journal he gave to Alaina, the one that Bucky was holding in his hand, and Steve felt embarrassment. Because everything that was eating at him was written inside it and all of it was to do with Bucky. He also felt saddened, because Bucky wouldn't remember anything there. He wouldn't remember how much he meant to him.

"You mentioned that she, that Al helped you," Steve said to Bucky, phrasing it more as a statement than a question.

Bucky's metal fist tightened momentarily and he gave a minute nod. "Yes," he answered quietly, eyes darting to Sam nervously. The man stopped pacing and Bucky with a cold stare.

"Care to share the rest of that story?" Sam asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Bucky glanced at Steve like he was unsure, and it warmed him a little bit. Bucky remembered him, no matter how much Hydra tried to take away.

He gave a nod of encouragement to his old friend, who looked back to Sam.

"I was shot," he began. Okay, Steve was not expecting that. "Outside of her apartment when someone broke in. I... I tried catching them but it was too late and I was bleeding out, so I passed out on her couch. She took the bullet out and helped me, even after I... after I hurt her." His lips pulled at the corners slightly and he looked away from the men in front of him. "When I saw her again, she offered to let me stay in her house. Didn't want me out in the streets while people were after me, too."

"Wait, so Al offered a war criminal assassin that used to be part of Hydra a place to stay after you near choked her to death?" At Sam's blunt question, Steve winced, and Bucky nodded his head. "Hah." Sam shook his head, releasing a breathy laugh. "Fucking Al. Of course she did that. Never knows how to say no to someone, even if it almost kills her." He sighed, the brief amused expression disappearing. "Have you got anything else, Barnes? Because if I don't find her..."

"I know," Bucky said, not needing to hear the rest. "I don't have anything else, I promise."

"Well, great," Sam huffed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "We should call Stark and tell him the great news. He or Nat might've found something to go off. I'll, uh..." He glanced between Steve and Bucky, as if just remembering their more than complication relationship and the fact they haven't seen each other for almost two years. "I'll go out and call them. You two can... chat it up."

Real subtle, Wilson.

He closed the door behind them, leaving the two men alone, standing in front of each other with only a few feet separating them. It felt awkward, with Bucky's eyes avoiding his, mouth bobbing open and closed like he wanted to say something but couldn't, and Steve staring at him, waiting, hoping to catch his eye.

After a few moments, Bucky spoke. "Miss Morella. She was our neighbour... right? The Italian one?" he asked carefully, eyes wide like he got it wrong.

"How...?" Steve trailed off, recalling the journal clenched in his fist. "You remember?" He said _'our'_.

Bucky nodded slowly, finally meeting Steve's gaze. His eyes flashed momentarily with fear, and it made the super soldier want to go over and hug the scared out of him. "I remember more," he said quietly, almost in a whisper. "I remember a lot. About us."

"Like what?" Steve dared to ask, heart pounding against his ribcage.

"We weren't just... friends," Bucky whispered the last word.

That single whispered word turned Steve's brain to mush. "You remember us?"

Bucky wordlessly nodded his head in confirmation, and it felt as though Steve's entire body flipped upside down.

"You-?"

"Steve!" Sam decided it would be the perfect moment to barge in then, phone still in hand, completely oblivious to what had just transpired between them. Steve spun around at the loud voice, caught off guard. "Stark's got a lead. We gotta go. Now."

"Okay. Buck?" Steve turned back around to ask Bucky if it wanted to come, but he was already gone. He sighed a breath of disappointment, looked back at Sam and gave a firm nod.

He needed to focus on the mission. Not his past.

* * *

**_Alaina_ **

_"Frank!" Alaina suppressed a laugh, attempting to kick the man off her bed. "Piss the hell off. The last time you stitched me up, you cut me so bad that I had to get 5 more stitches."_

_"Because you kept shoving your finger in my ear when you know that shit grosses me out," Frank argued, grabbing Al's legs so he could settle on the edge of her bed. "And you got cut on the back. You can try reaching 'round there, but it ain't gonna work, Ally. It's too big."_

_"I bet that's what you say to all the girls." Al grinned but eased up anyway. She leaned forward on the bed and waited for Frank to move behind her. "Or just Maria."_

_Frank breathed a chuckle, shaking his head as he grabbed the packet of alcohol wipes. "Fuckin' asshole," he muttered, making the first swipe across her open wound. She winced at the sting, keeping a hard grip on the discarded shirt on her lap. "I bet the others ain't having as much fun as us."_

_"Getting cut and stabbed by actual samurai swords?" Al asked. "Yeah, I bet they're itching to get in here. Hell, Bill's probably killed Curt by now." She kept her breathing even when he began to suture her skin back together. "We're like their  fucking parents. Speaking of, got any more cool gifts from Maria and the kids?"_

_"Nah," Frank murmured, concentrating on not fucking up. "Besides from the beer all you fuckers drank as soon as it got in, nothing else. How 'bout you? Anything from Sam?"_

_"Sent me a postcard from Costa Rica," she told him, smiling a little. "Him and Riley went away for a bit. Thought it'd be funny to send a hundred cutouts of their faces. Billy looked at me like I was fucking insane when they all fell out the envelope." She chuckled. "And my old man sent me a shit ton of sour worms. Ate 'em before your fat ass could eat them."_

_"You love my fat ass." She could hear the smile in his voice. "So, am I gonna be meeting Sam and Riley anytime soon?"_

_"Huh, haven't really thought about it," Al hummed, pulling the corners of her lips down. "Next time we're out, we'll make it a day. You, Maria and your kids, me, Bill, Curt and my other kids. Go out for the day, like a carnival or some shit. That'll be fun, right? We've still got that clandestine mission, the target in Kandahar, but we can do it after. Force Agent Asshole to give us a week off."_

_"Yeah, sounds good, Ally. And do you know what else is good?" He threw the needle on the bed next to her hip. "The fact I just finished your stitches without you whining like a bitch."_

_Al rolled her eyes. "God, you're such a loser."_

* * *

"Frank?" Alaina whispered, her eyes wide. His face was unrecognisable, covered with bruises and cuts. There was hardly an inch left uncovered.

She set her gaze to Stone, clenching her fists, but before she could stand up and leap towards the bastard who did this, she was yanked up with her arms restrained behind her back. "What the fuck did you do to him?" she hissed, attempting to pull out of the man's grip to no avail.

"He's not a very cooperative man, Miss Gunley." Stone stepped forward and straightened his tie. "Even after hours of endless torture, of him bleeding and crying, he still wouldn't tell us your little secrets. The ones that your file won't let us know. I just hope..." His eyes darted between Frank's defiant glare and Al's expression of hatred, his mouth flickering into a self-satisfied smile. "I hope that you're a better conversationalist than him, since he's already taken a rough beating, physically and I'm sure emotionally, too." He leaned forward, his face too close to Alaina's. "His family are, well... They were killed in an awful car accident, right before we caught him. Tragic, really." Alaina's body turned cold. "I'd hate it if he lost something else that's important to him, just a few days after."

She didn't know how to form words. He... Stone killed them. He murdered a family. All because of her.

Stone's eyes gleamed at her shift in expression. "He's feeling a lot right now. Let's not give him more to worry about, Miss Gunley." He reached up and ran his knuckles across her cheek. "Or I might hurt him myself."

"Keep touching me like that, and I'll break all of your fingers, you fucking psychopath," she spat, struggling to shift forward.

"Hm. Cute." Stone smiled brightly and took a step back, keeping his eyes focused on the woman. "Unfortunately, I won't be staying for much longer, but," he clapped his hands together, "I'll pop in before I leave. See how compliant you are. Until then..." He winked before spinning around, strolling out of the interrogation room. With a click of his fingers, Frank was taken away from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we've got implied Stucky, dead children, a dead wife, and torture! Such a romantic fic, I know.


	29. C for Cock-Sucker

**_Clint_ **

Clint wasn't sure how to feel. Maybe he should feel guilty or at least partly responsible for Al going missing, but he didn't. He couldn't. The bruises around her neck should have been an indicator that something was wrong but other than that, she didn't act like anything was really amiss.

Well, Clint should have seen straight past - hah,  _straight_  - that facade since she was trained with not just the regular special forces, but Cerebus Squad where the best soldiers were handpicked to join. She was trained to be a spy, an actor. And she fooled Clint. Because she was always nervous and a little awkward, so you wouldn't expect her to lie. It was difficult for Clint to wrap his head around.

Forcing his mind to focus back on the mission at hand, the archer knelt down and ran his fingers over faint scratch marks on the tarmac. He turned his hand and examined the white dust settled on his skin.

Whoever was here, was here recently.

Clint followed the marks, knees bent slightly, to a shadowed room at the back of the warehouse and he stepped inside. He heard Tony and Rhodey's robotic voices discussing the mission outside the main entrance where a bunch of cars were parked recently, talking quietly but still loud enough for Clint to catch. It was times like this he was thankful Tony made him implants for his hearing, otherwise he would be paranoid they were talking about him. Even if they clearly were not.

It was starting to grow dark outside since they'd been moving around for hours, so Clint pulled out his torch and lit the area. Wanda and Tasha called and informed them that there was nothing useful in Russo or Castle's homes, and they still hadn't heard anything about the Bucky situation yet from Steve or Sam. They all had cards that would tell the rest of the team if they were in danger, so Clint knew they were okay. And he knew Barnes wouldn't hurt Steve.

Pointing the torch around the darkened area, Clint surveyed the space. Shrouded by tall cabinets was a table and chair, something simple that would catch anyone's eye, but it felt sinister. Maybe it was just the way the torch only lit a small portion of the room and the fact the room was so strangely large yet empty, but Clint felt pulled towards it.

"Stupid horror films making me scared," Clint muttered to himself, mentally screaming at Tasha who always forced him to watch his worst nightmares. "No one's here. You're good. What would Thor do, what would Thor do..."

Unsurprisingly, the light didn't work. It flickered but gave up trying to turn on after a few moments, so Clint fully stepped inside. Thor would use his lightning to light the place up, but unfortunately, Clint was not a Norse God of weather.

He aimed the torch at the table first but didn't see anything of note. He moved onto the chair next and at first, didn't see anything, but then his eye caught sight of something on the arm.

Deliberate marks scratched into the wood, definitely done by a person, and on the end of the arm, where a hand would be stuck if someone was tied up.

They spelt out  _TS_.

"Stark? Rhodey?" Clint called out. "I think I found something."

The armoured men were inside the room in record time, and Clint turned off his torch. Tony's arc reactor lit up the room and he used his repulsor as an extra source, showing the scratches in full detail.

" _TS?_ " Tony's faceplate was down so Clint could read his frown. "Initials, maybe?"

"It could stand for Tony Stark," Clint commented with a shrug, staring at the mark with a furrow between his brow. "Do you think it was Al?"

"Could be. Jarvis?"

" _Judging by what I know_ ," Clint heard the A.I. from Tony's suit, " _the initials could stand for you, sir, but with Miss Gunley's previous encounter with the man, it is more likely to be Tiberius Stone_. _I have analysed the skin cells surrounding the marks, and it was Miss Gunley who made them, though I cannot find any trace of Tiberius Stone_."

"No." The billionaire shook his head, taking a step away from the chair like it poisoned him. "No, no. Stone wouldn't do something like this. He's a prick, but he wouldn't go this far..."

"We can't disregard a solid lead just because you think that  _you_  know someone," Clint pointed out, turning to face him. "And of all people- of  _all_  people, Stark, we should be the most suspicious about  _him_."

"Uh, guys?" Rhodey cut in before an argument broke out. A cabinet door was open in front of him, and in his hands was a pile of rope. "I think we got a lead."

"Shit," Tony whispered. "J, tell the others."

" _On it, sir._ "

* * *

**_Alaina_ **

Alaina sat on the white sheets on her cot, her chest void of her heart. She felt empty, although she felt that way since she was tied to that chair with Tiberius cock-sucker Stone in front of her. She grew emptier when she realised she didn't know what happened to Frank and Billy, that they might be dead, but hearing that Frank's wife and children, his innocent family, were killed... Al wasn't a violent person, but she made a promise to herself at that moment that she was going to kill every person that was responsible for hurting them. For hurting Frank and hurting Billy.

The room she was shoved in was white like everything in the damn building apparently, with only a metal cot with a thin sheet placed over it - no blankets, just a rock-hard pillow - a toilet placed in the corner, a sink next to it, and a small vent in the upper corner of the wall. No mirrors, no windows, just the four walls and roof surrounding her.

Adrian, the guard she briefly fought inside the interrogation room, led her to her cell without a word. He didn't seem to hold any resentment towards her, but she couldn't help but let a smile twitch at her lips when she saw the darkening bruise around his neck. Her own bruise was still present, less painful than it used to be, but she could feel it beginning to fade.

Before he shut the door, he threw something in her direction. She caught it, more of a reflex than anything, and nearly laughed out loud when she looked down.

A bouncy ball laid in the centre of her palm. One of those ones that you could win in an arcade with a plastic dinosaur in the centre. Too small to inflict damage but hey, at least it would keep Al entertained. If it was made to mock her, she was going to shove it in their faces and have fun. She was good at making the most out of nothing.

Which was how she ended up sat on her bed, back against the wall, throwing the dinosaur bouncy ball against the wall opposite her and catching it again, repeating the process until she messed up and had to get up to retrieve it.

Alaina was on her 147th throw when the metal door screeched open. She kept her gaze focused on throwing the ball, watching it bounce against the wall, bounce against the floor, and then catching it again in her fist, even when she caught an unkempt blonde head of hair enter the room. She continued her routine when he stood at the foot of the cot, hands wrapped around the metal, staring at her.

Stone sighed at the 165th bounce. "I didn't want things to be awkward between us, Miss Gunley," he said. She wasn't really registering his words, but she could concentrate enough to hear them while looking like she couldn't. "I understand why I may not be your favourite person right now, truly, I do. I hurt one of the men who means the most to you, granted, you haven't spoken to him for a long time, but you can't stop caring, no matter what. Believe me when I say I understand that feeling."

Alaina caught the ball on the 177th throw, keeping her stare firmly on the wall. "You understand that feeling?" she repeated with mockery lacing her tone. "If you understood that feeling, even an ounce of that feeling, of caring for someone, then you wouldn't force someone else to go through it. Least of all someone you know full well has been through it before."

Stone tapped his fingers against the metal, pressing his lips together with his eyes still fixated on the woman. "I know what it's like to lose someone," he stated, seemingly ignoring her previous words. "What it's like to feel alone in the world. To be depressed. To want to end it all." Al's blunt fingers gripped the ball tightly. "I do apologise for bringing up Riley Harper as I know it's not easy to think about. I wanted a reaction and I didn't necessarily get one. Disappointing, sure, but I'm still sorry, Alaina."

There was a beat of silence. "Miss Gunley is just fine," Alaina told him. "If you want a reaction from me, then keeping hurting Frank and Billy. Watch me strangle the life from you without twitching an eyelid."

Stone smiled. "Cute," he murmured. "That's the you I like, Miss Gunley. Your charm. But unfortunately, I'll only be here for an extra day before I have to take my leave."  _Unfortunately_ , my ass. The only unfortunate thing was that she couldn't physically harm him. "Adrian will pick you up in an hour." He removed his hands from her cot and backed out of the cell. "I'll see you soon, Miss Gunley."

"You broke my rhythm," she whispered as he shut the door. "Fucking asshole."

Throwing the bouncy ball against the wall, she started from 177 and made a promise to make it to a 500-streak.

* * *

Just like Stone said, Adrian opened the heavy metal door an hour later - although she wasn't counting, she guessed it was around an hour - and silently gestured for her to follow him. Al gave the ball a final throw, caught it, and then placed it on the cot next to her legs before standing. She made it to a number around 700, losing count after a few minutes of staring blankly at nothing.

The guard restrained her hands behind her back which wasn't too much of a shock, but it was certainly uncomfortable. They weren't regular shackles, like handcuffs, but looked more like a contraption that would be used on Captain America.

He led her through the pristine white corridors, the walk was only a few minutes, but it seemed like the building she was in was gigantic. Or maybe it was underground since there were no windows. Although, they could be trying to deter her. Al still had no clue what was going on, why she was here, only that it was likely related to Cerebus. But why? Why have the lie detector test when they knew all the answers, anyway? What was the point of all of this?

Adrian stopped outside a door and opened it. He uncuffed Alaina, nudged her inside the room and shut the door behind her.

The room was dark like the interrogation room, but larger, with more equipment and no people inside. It was essentially a gym, with punching bags, treadmills, training mats, benches, and, of course, a very inconspicuous one-way mirror taking up an entire wall... What the hell was going on?

" _If you would please make your way over to the treadmill, Miss Gunley_ ," a voice spoke, presumably over some kind of intercom. It was one she didn't recognise. " _Once you step on it, it will start. Run for as long as you can until you become too tired._ "

So, a physical test, then? It still made no sense to Alaina, but she complied regardless, remembering Frank's beaten face... She didn't want to cause him any more pain.

Just like the voice stated, the treadmill began moving when she stepped onto it, gradually building up from a walking pace to a jogging one.

As her feet continuously hit the belt of the machine, her mind drifted.

Did Sam even know that she was missing? They'd spoken the day before - or it might have been weeks ago since Al had no clue how long she had been knocked out for - and he would assume she was at work, so maybe The Avengers didn't even... Al shook her head. No. Of course, he would have noticed. If not Sam, then maybe Clint, one of her friends at the school, or Natasha...

Jesus, maybe this was a sign that there was no way in God's Green Earth that Natasha, the perfect assassin, was never made to be with Alaina, the awkward non-perfect nerd. Maybe it was dumb, but Al felt happy when she was with Natasha. A blushing mess, sure, but definitely a happy blushing mess. And she didn't sound crazy when she said that Natasha held some of the same feelings towards her, too, since they very nearly kissed at The Tower, after Al blurted out everything that was going on. How the red-head smiled on the date, held her hand, moved closer to her... How she said that there was going to be another date. Hey, during her time locked up in this psychopath's wet dream, she would come up with a clever second date. If she even made it out breathing, that is.

Death was never something that she feared. Everyone died, after all, even the most successful and kindest people. People who did amazing things to the world selflessly deserved to live forever, but they couldn't, and that was just a fact of life. Alaina wasn't scared of dying, but she was scared of watching the people around her die. Like Riley... even with the bomb only minutes from going off, he still had hope. His last words, not just to Alaina but to the entire world, was ' _I trust you. I know you can do this._ '. He believed in her and she failed him, failed her partner in his final breaths. And now he's dead.

Which was why Al was so scared for Frank and Billy. Frank's family were killed in cold blood. His wife, Maria who offered her a place to stay if she ever needed it, Frank Jr. who was a nervous kid but still reluctantly gave Al his lego Luke Skywalker, and Liz, the little girl who called her Aunt Ally the first and only time meeting her. The first and only time.

She knew that Frank was alive, at least for now, but she had no idea where Billy was. He could be dead for all she knew, or maybe he escaped the apartment unscathed before whoever drugged her got to him? It would explain why Stone wasn't rubbing it in her face. Maybe he went to Curt or Sam? Told them that she was missing?

Al's brief moment of hope quickly disappeared when she thought of her father. If they killed Frank's family, then what if...? No. Her heart ached at the thought. He hadn't been the best dad growing up, but he did his damned best trying to fill that role as the mother in Alaina's life. She never knew her mom, just like Sam never knew his, but she never needed one. She always had her dad, even during the awkward times like when she got her first period, when she had her first boyfriend and girlfriend, the other teenage stuff. While Al, twelve and emotional, cried with the pain of her first period, he went out to the closest store and bought numerous boxes of pads and tampons - she was certain he got every brand there - and had a minor freakout at the fact his little girl was growing up. She ended up being the one that comforted him.

It almost brought a smile to her lips. Almost.

Alaina didn't realise she had been sprinting until the treadmill slowed down, back to a walking pace.

" _That will be all, Miss Gunley._ "

She was led back to her cell by a still silent Adrian, reeling over what just happened. They sent her there to watch her run for twenty minutes?

As the door shut in front of her, Al thudded her head against the metal, wincing at the brief spike of pain that erupted on her forehead.

"Fuck me," she whispered.

"I hate to be superficial, but I gotta see what you look like before I take you up on that."

Al froze, her head hovering over the door.

Did she just...?

" _Hellooooo?_ " the voice spoke again. "As much as I love this behind view, gonna ask you to turn that pretty ass around."

Al, still frozen in a state of shock, slowly turned her head. There was a man lying in her bed, like, an actual buff-looking  _man,_  with shaggy brown hair, laying in her  _bed_.

"Yes, I know." The man shrugged at the expression on her face. "I'm too cute for words. The skinniest potato in the sack."

"That's not even a metaphor," she whispered, eyes wide, as she pressed her back against the door. "I'm actually going crazy. I didn't think I would be seeing things for at least another week, but... oh, God. I'm turning into Tom Hanks from Cast Away, aren't I? Are you going to turn into a soccer ball and go missing in the sea? Are you called Wilson? Is... Is that how going crazy works? I just,  _will_  you to turn into an inanimate ball? Wait... you kind of look like Heath Ledger, but post-Batman Heath Ledger. Not  _10 Things I Hate About You Heath Ledger_. Are you the ghost of Heath Ledger?"

The man held up a finger. "First of all, offensive, but I'll ignore it. Second of all," he held up a second finger, "I am in fact real. And yes, I'm 100% single and ready to mingle. Feel free to touch me if you wanna prove it."

Alaina took a reluctant step forward, and then another, and another, until she was stood next to the cot. Slowly, she reached out with her finger and poked the skin between his eyebrows.

"What the fuck," she hissed, immediately pulling her hand away when she touched a real human forehead.

"I get that a lot." He smirked.

"Who are you? And where the hell are we? What's going on?" Al fired at him.

"I'm Leon, I don't know, and the big guys are looking for someone I get along with," he answered deftly.

"What? Why?" she asked, a line appearing between her brows. She was still utterly lost.

"They want me to show my true power." Leon mimicked an explosion with his hands and made the sound effects that went with it. At the woman's look, he added, "I'm a mutant. An empathetic, to be specific. They want to know how far it goes, if I cry when they cry, if I laugh when they laugh..."

"An empathetic?" she repeated. "You're, like... You know what I'm feeling?"

"Now, if I told you that, the big guys would know and that's the last thing I want. Besides, death, of course. Or watching my loved ones die." He frowned. "I don't even have any loved ones."

"So, yes. You can sense what I'm feeling."

"Eh, it comes and goes." Leon shrugged a shoulder and swung his legs up, nodding for Alaina to sit next to him. "And who are you, new bunk buddy?"

"Alaina," she answered, taking a seat next to the man. "But you can call me Al."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how to feel about this one since it was very filler, but it was a bit longer than usual. Tell me what you think.
> 
> Thanks for the lovely comments, as always!


	30. Super-Powered?

**_Alaina_ **

Alaina was sat cross-legged on the floor with her back resting against the wall, Leon on the other side of the room sat in a similar position. They threw the bouncy ball back and forth - the man actually screeched in excitement when he saw it and Al almost had a literal heart attack - and, somehow, with everything going on in her life right now, she felt at least mildly relaxed.

Leon was a large, burly man, like Captain America if Captain America thought that dick jokes were funny, and he had dark curly hair that reached his shoulders. Like Heath Ledger, she recalled saying to him while on the brink of a breakdown.

"Wait, this asshole experimented on rats?" Leon asked with a curled lip as he tossed the ball.

"Well, it wasn't an experiment," Alaina clarified. "He didn't hurt them or anything, just sorta manipulated it to do what he wanted. It's an interesting study."

He caught the ball and paused for a moment, mulling over what she told him. "So, the rats learned that pressing the green lever would give them food, and pressing the red one wouldn't give them anything, so they ended being... what? Scared of the colour red?"

"They  _avoid_  the colour red," she corrected, catching the ball as he threw it. They continued to rhythmically throw it back and forth. "I'm telling you, it's basic bad guy tactics. When you do something good, you get rewarded, so you'll continue to do the good thing so you continue getting the rewards instead of fighting against it. That's how they get you, man. Ask Pavlov."

The man stared at her for a moment with a bewildered look on his face, eyebrows lowered. "God, you're weird," he muttered, shaking his head.

"Not weird enough to read emotions, apparently," Al retorted, shrugging at his irate expression. "How long have you even been here?" she asked in curiosity. "Are you, like, a senior here? I read an article about people wearing sweatpants in prison, and that people knew not to mess with them.  _Wait_... is it like Game of Thrones? The longer the hair, the scarier you are?"

Leon frowned. "Game of Thrones?" he repeated.

Alaina gaped, slumping back against the wall. "Oh, my God. You've never watched Game of Thrones? Or read the books?" She gasped. "You've never read the books. Wow, that shouldn't have hurt me as much as it did. Are you secretly a Mormon? No, too many dick jokes. How long have you been here?"

"Well, I was about to answer that before you had another minor breakdown," Leon said, lip turning up in amusement. It was strange how much he reminded her of Sam, from the small mannerisms to the way he talked to her. Although, not the humour relating to genitalia and the awkward - at least awkward on her side - flirting. "I've been here for a few years now. Lost count after 11 days."

"You lost count after 11 days," she echoed.

"Mathematics isn't my strongest subject," he explained.

"Yeah, no shit," Al said, unable to hide her eye-roll. He scoffed and threw the bouncy ball a little harder on his next throw, although it only resulted in it bouncing off Alaina's chest and rolling pathetically back towards him. "What even is this place, by the way? They're not telling me shit about why I'm here, they have my friends somewhere, god knows if they're still alive..." She huffed a laugh, but her mind drifted to Frank's family. Dead, all of them, and for what? To piss her off? To get a reaction like Stone said? Maybe they were dead because of Alaina. Frank... god, he probably hated her.  _Hey, buddy, I haven't seen you for years- oh, look, your family is dead. All because of me!_

"Al?" Leon asked quietly. She hadn't even noticed he stopped throwing when her thoughts trailed off. Right. Empathetic. "You good? I feel..."

Guilt? Frustration? Mourning? Anger?

"I'm fine," she said, mood dimming slightly.

Leon nodded and dropped the subject, but still had a crease between his brows. "What were you going to ask?"

"It just..." Al shook her head as they went back to throwing the ball back and forth, slower this time, so they could speak without distraction. "What is this place? First, I wake up to some weird drug being put inside me, and then some old dude starts asking me questions that he clearly knew the answers to, which, obviously, I know was a test of some kind, but it doesn't make it any less weird. And then they ask me to run for, like, 30 minutes and tell me to leave, which makes no sense, at all. I've been through torture, literally every kind of torture, and I still got no clue what's going on. Are there a bunch of people here, is this some kind of Hydra thing, is Stone secretly- well, not  _secretly_  - some kind of psychopath who keeps people as pets?"

Leon's thick eyebrows drew together as he bored his eyes into hers like he was reading her. He probably was, with the empathetic thing he had going on. "You don't know?" he asked.

"Judging by me just telling you that I don't know anything, yes, I don't know, Leon," she returned.

"Well," Leon started, drawing out the word. He caught the ball, paused for a second, and threw it back to Alaina. "This is a place for people with... people who are different. You know, special powers, mutant skills, the whole shebang. There's a shit ton of people here, a bunch of 'em I've met, a bunch I haven't. The powerful ones are lower down, like the super strong people and mind readers, while the pathetic ones like yours truly are up here." He shrugged a shoulder. "Stone hardly comes down here, only when a new one comes in. He seems to have some weird obsession with you, though. Heard the guards saying that he watched your interrogation and came in here, to your cell, which never happens. That's usually Rawlins job."

Alaina's ears perked at that. She was so busy focusing on the start of his explanation -  _she wasn't superpowered, so why was she here?_  - but then she heard Agent Asshole's name. "Rawlins?" she repeated, "As in, William Rawlins? Fat guy with a missing eye?"

"Yeah," Leon confirmed. "Why? You know him or something?"

Al thunked her head back against the wall. "Know him," she scoffed with a bitter smile. "Of course that slimy little prick is part of this."

"I'm taking that as a yes?"

"He was my Commander when I served in Cerebus," she told him. That fucking three-faced dumbass toad. "Always hated me and Frank, Billy less so because he didn't like arguing, but..." Oh, God. Billy  _worked_  under him. "Wow. No wonder Frank is here, too."

"...Frank?" Leon asked with caution.

"He's the one that did that to his eye," Al said, unable to help the surge of pride that arose within her. "After a mission went wrong, I was hospitalised, basically dead, and Frank literally punched his eyeball out."

"And you're proud of this?" he questioned.

"If you were his subordinate, you'd be proud, too," she said. "Never listened to his people, got a bunch of us killed, but..." Al thought for a moment. "It explains why I'm here maybe, but, still, I don't have any special abilities. I'm not a mutant."

"Neither was I, technically," Leon informed her. "My dad was and my mom wasn't, and I ended up being fortunate enough not to be some superhero. After they died, I was captured and taken here. They forced the mutation out of me and alas, I'm now a special being who can feel your one-hundred-percent attraction towards me."

Alaina snorted. "Only because you very vaguely resemble Heath Ledger," she reminded him. "But I'm still confused. My dad would have told me if my mom was a mutant, I know he would. I love him but he's one of the least interesting people I've ever met, so I know he doesn't have...  _abilities_."

"Harsh." The man raised an eyebrow. "But if you had a kid, would you want to tell them that their biological parent is only  _part_  human? Better yet, she might not have told your old man. You reek of abandonment, by the way, so I'm assuming she left?"

Al frowned. She  _reeked_  of abandonment? In all honesty, her mother's absence never truly bothered her. Of course, it did when she was younger, when all the kids talked about both of their parents being there in their lives, but when High School was over, she got over it, too. She had her dad and Sam's dad to help her through shit since they were practically their own little family, and she was more than happy to be without the woman who left her child. Alaina turned out semi-okay, regardless.

"Yeah," Al muttered in response. "I guess, but... I'd know, right? If something was different about me?"

"I didn't," Leon said matter-of-factly. "I only realised I was different after I  _became_  different. If that makes any sense."

"No, it does." Al chewed the inside of her cheek, trying to mull over anything that made her different.

"Try not to think too hard," he advised. "It'll only take several hours of pure torture and manipulation before you know, but you'll get there." He flashed a reassuring smile. "I'm sure you'll be fine."

"Thanks for the vote in confidence, asshole. I really appreciate it."

Leon only grinned, and they began nattering away aimlessly once again. But Alaina couldn't keep her mind off their previous conversation.

* * *

**_Sam_ **

They were in another meeting, this time in the actually Avengers meeting room and not just the penthouse, and everyone was exhausted. It was hitting midnight and the team had been endlessly moving all day, searching for leads, for Al- literally anything that could help them find her. Wanda and Nat figured out that Frank Castle and his family were missing, as well as Billy Russo, with no traces left behind. Sam briefly spoke with Curt on the phone, and he was completely oblivious to what was going on but offered to keep an ear open anyway. Barnes was pretty much as clueless as them, so he was no help.

The only lead they really had was the scratches in the chair that spelt out  _TS_.

"Stone wouldn't leave evidence out in the open like that, especially when he knows we'd look for her," Tony pointed out, standing at the head of the table. His fingers were anxiously tapping the glass surface.

"Unless he's purposely leading us in the wrong direction," Clint said.

"Assuming he actually did this," Tony argued.

"Who else would be ballsy enough to do this, Stark?" the archer retorted, scoffing in frustration. Natasha, sat next to him, glanced over at her friend, and placed a gentle hand over his wrist. It seemed to calm him down, a move that Al would use to keep Sam at bay, too. "He threatened her. Who else would it be?"

"Statistically, there is a one in eight chance that Tiberius Stone is involved in this," Vision spoke up. "Miss Gunley has created a great number of enemies over the years, although Stone is the likely perpetrator."

"I'm sorry, did you just say the name Alaina Gunley and  _enemy_  in the same sentence?" Natasha asked the android. "We're talking about the same person here, right?"

"You didn't know her in her army days," Sam stated, voice coming out much gruffer than he anticipated. Jesus, he sounded like he was ready for death. Which he kind of was. "A lot of people either hated her for being the best at what she did or hated her because she spoke up when no one else would."

Tony bit his lip and glanced over at the quiet Steve, before moving his eyes back to Clint. "In her report, it said that she could easily be the next Captain America due to her heroism, intellect and ability, right?" he asked. Steve's head lifted at that. "That would make as many enemies as it would friends."

Sam remembered reading that report with Al sat next to him, a nervous expression on her face as she awaited his reaction. It was as though she was looking for approval, and after reading that specific line, he felt like a proud father.

"It said that?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," Sam answered for Tony. "It did."

"We're going off-topic," Wanda interjected, grasping the team's attention. "We can talk of her accomplishments later, but right now we have to find her. Tony, I understand why you believe Stone was not a part of this, but you have to remember that he is manipulative, and he can be reckless, especially when it comes to people who disobey him, as Alaina did." She gave the billionaire a pointed look, and he looked down in what looked to be shame. The only people that could do that to him was Pepper, Wanda and Nat. All red-headed and frightening. "Vis will continue to help Jarvis search for her while everyone else sleeps."

Sam chuckled sharply. "If you think I'm going to sit and do nothing--"

Wanda's sharp look cut him off. "You will be useful to your friend by having the energy to fight. Exhaustion will not help anything, Sam." She surveyed the rest of the team. "That goes to everyone else. If I see a single one of you try to get up, do not think that I will not put you to sleep myself."

Damn. When did Wanda become more intimidating than Natasha?

"Great." Tony clapped his hands together. "Meeting adjourned."

* * *

Sam didn't sleep, of course. He just couldn't, not when his friend was out there going through god knew what. Hell, if she was even alive.

He was sat with his back against the bed on the floor, the window's blind up so he could stare down at the city. He wondered if Al was out there somewhere, in the city. Was she in one of the buildings he could see, right under their noses, or was she in another country?

It hurt to think about. Before The Avengers, before Steve Rogers, before Falcon, before he even thought about joining the military, he had Al. Even when she found out he had that dumb crush on her - Sam still cringed at how obvious he was about it - Al didn't even blink, but laughed, called him a dork, and then asked what he wanted to order from their local Chinese shop. When she found out that Sam was Falcon, after he recovered from his mini-coma, she first punched him so hard that she fractured his nose and then started crying. Sam tried comforting her, of course, but she ended up screaming at him, yelling that he was a _dumbass piece of shit who needed to think about himself for once in his goddamn life instead of flying around like a pigeon_ , which really stung at the time. Still, after she was finished with the shouting, she hugged him and told him to never scare her like that again.

His lips softened into a smile as he recollected the memory. One of the best and worst moments of his life.

He was so busy thinking about those times with Al that he didn't hear anyone enter, at least not until they sat down next to him. He glanced over at Natasha, whose eyes stared out into the city, and then followed her gaze.

After a few moments, the redhead spoke up. "I'm sorry, Sam." She was quiet, almost talking in a whisper, and it was strange to hear her like that. "I should have done something but I didn't because she asked me not to. In any other situation, I would've alerted The Avengers immediately, but... Well, I guess I found a soft-spot, finally." Nat let out a breathy chuckle. "Before our date, I said that I'd give you full range to do whatever you want if she got hurt. I'm giving you that range."

Sam turned his head to look at her, to see if she was being serious. Judging by her expression, she was. "You really think I blame you for all this crap?" he asked with a scoff of disbelief.

"I'm a spy, Sam," Natasha reminded him, drawing her leg up so it was pressed against her chest. She clasped her hands over her knee and leant her head against the bed. "I see things that a lot of people don't. Including who you blame."

"Yeah, well, I'm sorta blaming everyone right now," he said. "Even Al at this point. She... She may not have been my first friend but she's the only one that stuck, you know? We told each other everything. Not gonna lie, I told her most of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s secrets."

"Don't let Nick hear you say that," Nat laughed softly. "Or anyone else, for that matter. Steve would have a field day."

"We both know by now that Al doesn't give a damn about what anyone has to say," Sam stated with a smile. "Did she ever tell you that she threatened Fury after The Winter Soldier? He didn't want her to come in and see me, when I was in the hospital, so she threatened to jab his other eye out?"

"Yeah, Steve told me." Nat's lips twitched at the corners, and the edges of her eyes crinkled with the small smile. "He said he was gonna step in, but I think in all honesty she scared him. After she swore to Tony's face, shut Steve down... I think that's when I realised she was more than a soldier haunted by her past."

Sam couldn't be bothered to be offended by the last remark, but he found himself agreeing. "She never let it define her," he said. "When she won the Medal of Honour, she didn't even keep the money for herself. Spent half of it to help her dad, and the other half helping out Curt, her, um, friend, I guess. Partner? I don't know. But he was poor, had a shitty prosthetic after he lost his leg, and she saved up for almost a year to get him a better one. After that, she helped him out with his medication until he didn't need it anymore, and then funded his group therapies for veterans." Sam shook his head. "It's a good thing, being kind, but to a point. If she wasn't always so worried about other people, she wouldn't be in this situation. If she told me without wondering what my reaction would be, any of us- hell, even helping out Barnes... She'd be here."

Natasha was quiet for a while, likely thinking over his words. She did that a lot, pausing to think of a suitable response.

"Whether it was Stone or not, we know whoever did it has something personal against her," she voiced. "Like Vision said, she apparently has a lot of enemies. They took Castle and Russo, too. This would have happened regardless, Sam. This isn't anyone's fault."

"Yeah." He hummed. "Guess so."

And they stayed like that for most of the night, sat side by side in silence, before Sam drifted off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've started writing some Marvel one-shots which I may soon upload, so hey, extra content! If you have any ideas for one-shots (literally any pairing, I have 5k words written for a Peter Quill x OC) comment or PM me and I'll give it a go!
> 
> Thanks for the lovely comments, as always.


	31. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: There's a graphic description of suicide later on in the chapter. I'll put the scene between '***' so you can skip over it, but proceed with caution if you want to read. As someone who once went through this, I understand, and as cheesy as it sounds, you're never alone.

**_Peter_ **

Peter was walking down the corridor with Ned, talking aimlessly about their classes and how much they hated homework. It was approaching lunch, so they were on their way to Alaina's office to eat – she told them to call her Alaina when they weren't in class – and maybe skip another PE lesson if she was feeling nice enough. MJ said she'd meet them at the room after she talked to one of her teachers, something about a recommendation from Alaina, but Peter wasn't sure.

They arrived at her office's door and Ned attempted to turn the handle, but it was locked. Huh, she might not be in again today. Maybe she was ill?

"I bet she's secretly a superhero," Ned whispered, even though no one was around.

"What?" Peter squinted. "No, she's not a superhero…" And then he thought: she was friends with The Avengers and best friends with Falcon. She knew Tony, so maybe… "Oh, my God."

"I know right!" Ned exclaimed quietly. "I wonder what her power is. She's, like, scary sometimes, so maybe she's like Captain America? Or what if she's a cool fighter like Black Widow? Or-?"

"What are you losers talking about?"

"Nothing!" Ned and Peter yelled simultaneously.

MJ raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two with a disbelieving expression. "Sure." She leaned past Ned to try the door handle, but still, it wouldn't open. "Teach isn't in again?" she asked.

Peter shrugged. "Don't know." And then glanced to Ned, who mouthed ' _superhero'_  behind MJ's back. "She might be sick with something."

"She once came in with bruises on her neck," MJ stated. "I doubt being a bit ill is gonna stop her from missing two days." Peter frowned, sharing a look with Ned.  _Bruises?_  "God, you two are dumb. I'm going to the cafeteria. Feel free to join instead of standing here like weirdos." She walked off, leaving Ned and Peter standing there, mouths open.

"I-I have to call Mr Stark," Peter rushed out, grabbing his phone out of his pocket.

"What? Why?" Ned asked. "Do you think she's in danger?"

Peter ignored his friend's question and dialled Tony's number, holding the receiver to his ear as it started ringing.

" _Hello?_ "

"Mr Stark, I think Miss Gunley is in danger," Peter started right away, almost cutting off the older man's greeting. "She hasn't been in for two days and MJ says she has bruises around her neck and-"

" _Kid_ ," Tony cut off. " _What the…? Okay. Listen to me._ " Peter had to bite his lip to keep himself from speaking. Tony sounded exhausted, which was usual since he spent most of his time in his lab until the early hours of the morning, but it was still unnerving. " _I'm not even going to bother lying because I haven't slept since '91, and you're a persistent little shit._ " The man sighed. " _Alaina's missing right now, Pete. She disappeared yesterday morning and we don't know where she is._ "

"What? Where is she?"

There was a moment of pause. " _If I knew that, she wouldn't be missing, would she?_ " Peter flushed at the comment, embarrassed. " _We're narrowing down the search. The people who might have taken her took a plane to Canada, so we're going to set off soon._   _Now, I told you but I don't want you anywhere near this, kid. If I even catch a glance of you anywhere near what is happening, I'm taking the suit away._ "

Okay, Peter bristled at that. "Of course I'm going to help, Mr Stark!" he argued. Ned gave him a  _you-probably-should-listen-to-him_  look, but Peter ignored it. "Miss Gunley is my friend, and-"

" _And last time you didn't listen to me, you almost died_ ," Tony interrupted, tiredness being replaced with frustration. " _I promised May and I promised myself that I wouldn't put you in that kind of danger again. After Germany and especially after The Vulture_. _She's sick and doesn't need any more stress from you._ "

"You just expect me to sit back and do nothing?" Peter scoffed. "If she's been missing since yesterday and  _you_  haven't found her- you need help, Mr Stark. Yo-You can't do this alone!"

"I'm not," Tony responded curtly. "I was easy on you before, but I won't be if you go out looking for her, kid. I'm not losing you, too."

He hung up.

Peter felt the urge to throw his phone against the wall but held back, knowing that it would smash upon impact.

"You okay?" Ned asked cautiously.

"Yeah," Peter answered with a crease between his brows. "I'm fine."

* * *

**_Alaina_ **

"I'm  _not_  okay."

Alaina rolled her eyes, shifting onto her side with a sigh to face Leon. He was laying with his back against the wall, legs splayed up the room in a way that looked like he was sitting on the wall. He was weird, always found a way to sit in a different way. A few hours ago, he was sleeping in a headstand.

"Is this an empathy thing or a you thing?" Al asked, shifting her arm so her head was rested on it. Leon had the uncomfortable pillow, so she was left with an equally uncomfortable bed.

"Depends," Leon hummed. "Are you now realising the fact that the corndog scene in Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure represents Freud's masculinity because as the scene progresses the corndog becomes limp and the girls laugh at him, which is a reference to his dick?"

Al had to pause at that, unable to form any words for a moment. "You're realising this almost 30 years after the film is released?"

Leon turned his head and gaped. "You  _knew?_ " He sounded offended, like she should have told him this very specific reference to an outdated movie as soon as they met.

"The character is Freud," Alaina explained with a shrug. "You know, famous psychologist? Kinda sexist, suggested that girls prefer their fathers because they have penises and their mothers don't? Thought women added nothing to society? Didn't think we could get horny?"

"Fucking virgin," Leon snorted. "Seriously, how do you know all this shit, Gunley? Maybe your superpower is being smart."

"No, Leon. I was educated by, you know, professionals. Went to college and everything."

"Okay, Miss Snarky, no need for that attitude." Leon picked up the discarded bouncy ball and tossed it, probably aiming for her head, but he missed and it hit the wall behind her head instead. Alaina caught it before it fell back onto the floor, sitting up with her back against the wall, and began rolling the clear sphere between her fingers. "Did you go to college with that Castle dude, then? Is that how you know each other?"

Alaina eyed the top of her cellmate's head for a moment, lips parting. "No. We met when I worked for Cerebus," she responded. Al's mouth closed and opened again, holding the ball between her index and middle finger to stare at it."

"Huh, you seem pretty close, though" the man hummed, thinking out loud.

"I have a question."

"Hit me." And then, "But don't actually hit me because that might be your mutant thing."

"Are we above ground?" Alaina asked, eyes drifting to the vent in the upper corner of the room.

Leon turned his head, giving her a confused upside-down look. "Uhhh, yeah," he answered, sounding reluctant. "There's a bunch of snow outside, got a look at it in my early days, around summer time. I'll be honest, I don't like what I'm feeling right now."

Yup. Mutant. Don't forget it.

Al didn't say anything at first, just stared into the vent with a furrow in her brows, unsure of what to think. Leon could probably feel whatever the hell she was thinking, anyway.

"You were set up to do this, weren't you?" She looked back to Leon, who froze. "You're not here because they want to see how far your powers go, right?"

There was a moment of nothing; Alaina's eyes burning into Leon's head and Leon staying seated in his position, unspeaking. For a few moments, she was worried that the guards would come bursting in and take her away, torture her for information, torture Frank or Billy for information… but he eventually let out a quiet sigh which was rather uncharacteristic of him – at least from how well she knew him in the day since she's met him – and turned his body, sitting up with his back pressed against the wall, shoulders slumped and legs out in front of him.

His eyes were filled with sorrow, a hint of guilt.

"What gave me away?" he asked quietly.

"I never mentioned Frank's last name," Al told him. "I'm guessing Rawlins and Stone didn't either, since you had no idea who we were."

Leon chuckled with a small head shake. "Of course you would catch that," he muttered. "You're good, you know. Stone's biggest concern with you was that you'd manage to outsmart everything and everyone. Like using the lie detecting cable thing to strangle that guard? I thought about it, but I'd never act it out, not in a million years." He paused. "And you asked if we're above ground. I'm guessing you've got some master escape plan?"

Alaina's lips pursed. "Maybe I'm just curious about my situation."

Leon apparently didn't miss the implication of her saying 'my', rather than 'our'. "Don't get cold with me now, Gunley. You're not the only one locked in here."

"No, but I'm the only one that would never say yes to manipulating someone," she retaliated, expression darkening. "Let me guess, they gave you some shitty false promise in exchange for whatever the hell this is? You gonna go and tell them now, huh? Tell the big boys that I figured you out?" She threw the ball at the floor and it bounced off, hitting the space next to Leon, and rebounded back. She caught it and repeated the process. "I think I'd prefer it if you tell Rawlins, though. He's easier to piss off."

"I'm not gonna rat you out," Leon said. "They… They told me that you're a bad person. That you killed a lot of people while part of your squad, the Cerebus thing."

"I did kill a lot of people," Al pointed out. "It was war. There were terrorists."

"No, I-I mean they said that you killed… innocents. A lot of innocents." Alaina paused at that. "That you went against your boss' orders."

"I went against his orders to  _protect_  innocents," Al bit out, throwing the ball with more aggression in her swing. "He was ready to bomb villages to kill one threat, he sent our men out on suicide missions, he's the reason why I left, because he threw us into a trap and I was shot in the chest three times, my friend lost his leg, I lost the people I gave a shit about, and—" She cut herself off, shaking her head with her eyes shut. The ball slipped from her grasp and fell onto the hard surface of the bed. "I'm getting ahead of myself. Are you really empathetic? Can you feel what I'm feeling?"

"If I concentrate hard enough, then yeah," Leon said. He seemed genuine, and although Al didn't like how quickly he was trying to justify his actions, she could sense his guilt.

"Then you should feel my honesty," Alaina told him.

"I do, I do," he assured. "I'm just… The people that come here, the ones I meet, they're never good people. Bottom-of-the-barrel, scum of the earth, kinda folks—"

"You're really helping your case right now."

"—but you're not a scum of the earth."

There was a beat of silence.

"That's not a great compliment, you know. Setting the bar pretty low."

"In a place like this," Leon chuckled, "it's a pretty good bar. The good ones, the ones that want to help, that want to use their powers for good, they never last long in here. You either put on an act or turn into a psychopath." He was telling the truth about the mutant powers, then. "The torture they put you through…" He shook his head, throat bobbing. "Hell, Stone will stab me in both eyes if he finds out I'm telling you any of this shit, but—"

"Wait," Alaina frowned, "what do you mean? They're not listening in?" She thought there would be an audio device stuck somewhere in the room, at the very least.

"Usually, yeah." Leon shrugged a shoulder. "But like you said before, I'm a senior here. They trust me enough not to pull that kind of shit."

Al leaned back so her head hit the wall, staring up at the ceiling. "Huh." That was… weird. Dodgy, even. "What were you saying? Stone'll stab your eyes out…"

"Yeah, it's just…" he trailed off, tapping his fingers against the floor between his knees. "What they put you through, what they're gonna put you through, man… It isn't just torture. Taking your buddy, beating him up and then showing him to you, that's not even the start of it."

"What did they do to you?" she asked him quietly.

Leon met her gaze, brown eyes trying to mask the sorrow in his face, but she could see it. It seemed too obvious.

"Another mutant," he started, "someone who's been here as long as me. She makes you see your worst fears, but it isn't like reliving a memory, she just- she reaches into every corner of your mind and pulls out everything she can. It's… It's so real and it's the fucking worst thing." His lips tightened and then softened, as though recalling it was physically hurting him. "I had to watch my parents die, but it just… I had to kill them. I held the knife and I stabbed them over and over again until they were nothing but a pile of skin, and I couldn't control it. It's how they get you. They find your weak points and use it against you."

"So, if it's Frank in mine…"

Leon smiled sympathetically. "Then you're fucked, Gunley."

A loud banging on the door cut off their conversation quite abruptly, and Al jumped in her seat.

"If you're near the door or each other, step away," Adrian ordered from the other side. "Mister Stone is on his way here and if you try anything, I'll shoot you in both kneecaps."

"Charming," Leon muttered.

"Can I trust you?" Alaina asked her cellmate, ignoring the guard's probably empty threat. "There are people looking for me,"  _hopefully_ , anyway, "and I need to know if I can trust you, Leon."

"You have a plan?"

"Maybe. It might not work, though."

He nodded. "You can trust me, Gunley." He was her only real option, anyway. She didn't have much choice.

"The vent is projecting heat." Al nodded to the vent in the corner. "Enough to warm up a room in a cold country, somewhere where it snows in the summer if you were right. If you can somehow get the grate off, wrap the bouncy ball in the pillow's cover, and throw it back as far as you can and-" She realised how reckless it sounded, how dangerous it could be for both her and Leon. For Frank and Billy, too. "If it sets on fire, it'll distract the guards long enough for me to grab Frank and Billy, and we'll find a way out. You know your way around, right? If we can't escape, we can send out some kind of signal so the people looking for me can find us. Track us down."

"I-I don't think that's a good idea, Gunley," Leon said. "There aren't any weak points in this building, we can't—"

The door swung open before Leon could voice his thoughts, and Tiberius Stone sauntered in with Adrian behind him, hand resting over his holstered gun.

Stone stepped to the edge of the bed, hands holding the edge like when he visited her before, and he glanced between Leon and Alaina with a twinkle in his eye, though his eyes lingered more on the woman.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked, sensing the tension between the two.

"Only an in-depth discussion about Viagra," Al said. "I'm sure you can pitch in."

Stone chuckled, his eyes creasing at the corners. "Amusing as ever, Miss Gunley," he commented. "Now, I said that I would be leaving later on, but my plans have changed. I'll be staying for an extra few days, keeping a close eye on you and make sure your, uh,  _friends_  don't catch up to us."

"You scared, Stone? That my friends will rip you apart as soon as they link this to you?"

He had the same look on his face that he did at the gala, when Alaina when she pointed out that the media would go crazy if he did anything to her, to Tony. It was full of bitterness, hostility, but it went as quick as it came. "Perhaps," he half-admitted. "After all, to become stronger, you must acknowledge your weaknesses. If you'd follow me, please."

Al stood up and gave Leon a lingering look, a pleading look that Stone and Adrian couldn't see. She needed him to do it. She needed to get Frank out of here, to find Billy and get him out of here, too. Even Leon. Even if it meant fucking dying, she would do it.

Adrian clasped her hands behind her back and snapped a pair of handcuffs around her wrists, and then they were gone.

Stone walked in front of them in a steady pace, seeming to be in no rush, and Adrian had his arms locked around her forearm despite them being secured, as though she could break out of them. Hell, maybe that would be her power, if that was what was going to happen. Or maybe she'd meet the mutant that forced Leon to kill his parents, whether it was a dream or not.

She was taken into the same interrogation room as earlier. It reminded Al that she'd only been here for one night, despite it feeling like forever.

Alaina was shoved on the same chair as before, secured the same way as before, and without a word, Adrian was gone. Stone leaned against the wall in front of her, crossed his arms over his chest with a foot crossed in front of the other.

She held his gaze.

"You're a fascinating woman, Miss Gunley," he cut into the silence. "I've heard a lot about you, many stories. Meeting you for the first time outside the gala, it was like meeting Captain America for the first time, at least for me. I was never a fan of him if I'm being honest." He sighed. "I know you're intelligent, but I don't think you've quite figured out why you're here." Al almost snorted. If only you knew, asshole. "Think about the last thing you saw before you passed out. Think about what happened in those final moments."

_"Have you... heard from him recently?" Alaina decided to ask. Maybe Billy knew what was going on with Frank?_

_"Nah." He shook his head, fidgeting slightly. Al frowned. He was reacting strangely to Frank's name, which never happened. "Last I heard, he was going to Arizona or something."_

_"Arizona?" she repeated. "No, he can't be... He tried calling last week, said that he's in deep shit or something." Al stared at Billy, who refused to meet her gaze. "Do you know something I don't?"_

_Billy didn't respond._

Al's heart hammered in her chest.

What was he trying to imply?

"He was your friend, your brother-in-arms." Stone smiled, compassionate. "He doesn't show it, but I know he cares for you dearly, like a brother does a sister. He cares for you more than Frank, I know that. He didn't seem too upset when he slashed Maria's tyres, and let her and her kids die in that car crash." He uncrossed his arms and let a breath pass his lips, took a small step forwards. "The saddest thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemy, isn't it?"

He was gone.

Alaina… She didn't know. She didn't know what to think. She didn't know to feel.

_C'mon, you can't tell me that you've got no guy at home waiting on you._

_I trust Alaina's instincts, sir._

_I can't even describe that feeling when I heard your voice again._

_You were dead. My friend was dead, right there in front of me._

_You're like a sister to me, a big sister who always tries to protect me and a little sister who I always want to protect._

He was lying. He was…

Al's hand moved, it… moved? No, she was just restrained, strapped down to the chair, unable to move.

She stood up and realised she was no longer wearing the clothes she was dressed in, but her standard military uniform, sans the helmet. The armour was a heavy weight on her shoulders after years of not serving, but it wasn't comforting like it used to be. It was like the physical embodiment of dread was set on her body, pulling her down towards the floor.

Her feet moved forwards towards the door, almost instinctively, and she turned the handle to find that it was unlocked. She opened the door and stepped through, only to be met with darkness. A giant room with seemingly no end, shrouded entirely in darkness.

And then a light flickered. Alaina couldn't see the source but…

"Riley?" she whispered. "Oh, my God."

She ran forward to where her friend was strapped to a chair, eyes glazed with tears and hands shaking.

"Al?" Riley whispered with a slight smile. "Got myself into some shit." He glanced down at his bare torso, where a red light luminated beneath the skin. "You gotta evacuate the area, get out of here, slugger. I don't think I've got left before this thing explodes."

"What? No." She frantically shook her head, kneeling down in front of him so they were face-to-face. "No, no, I-I can—"

" _Sargent? What's your status?_ "

Al unclipped the radio from her belt with shaky fingers and held it up to her mouth. "Evacuate the village ASAP. We have a bomb situation. Riley- Harper's been compromised."

" _Want me to call in bomb squad?"_

"They might not get here in time," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. "Get out of here. G-Get everyone out of here. That's an order." She put down the radio and turned back to Riley. "Is it in your stomach?"

"The hell are you doing?" Riley asked her. "You need to leave, Al."

"I'm not abandoning my partner," she stated firmly.

"Why not?" He smiled. "You've done it before."

Everything went black again and Riley was gone. She couldn't feel his presence in front of her anymore, but before she could even think, it was no longer dark.

Right in front of her, where Riley just was, laid a mangled body. Riley's mangled body, torn open from the bomb, his insides laid out around him like a bloody halo.

Alaina's hands were wet with blood, she realised when she looked down. Horrified, eyes wide and full of fear, she crawled backwards to get away, bloody handprints leaving a trail to where she went.

*******

She bumped into something and turned her body, still kneeling on the floor.

"Sam," she breathed. "No, no, no, no, no…"

Sam was laying on the floor, his eyes staring blankly into Alaina's, but that wasn't what freaked her out. He had a razor blade hanging loosely in his open palm, deep cuts horizontally lining the inside of each wrist, deep enough that she could see the bone. Blood ran down the sides of his arms and dripped to the floor, hitting her knees.

His lips parted. "Al…"

She just stared, unable to speak.

"Al, listen to me…"

He shot up suddenly, grabbed her shoulders and screamed, " _Alaina!_ "

*******

She snapped back to the real world, arms and legs secured to the chair with tears streaming down her face.

"Sam…?"

"It's me." Hands unstrapped her from the chair and grabbed the sides of her face. "We're here. I'm here, Al." A watery smile hinted at his lips. "I'm here."

"Sam," she murmured again, holding the sides of his neck. "Sam!" She pulled him into a hug and began crying again.

"I'm here," Sam mumbled in the crook of her neck. "You're safe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, this was such a heavy chapter to write. Regardless, I hope you liked it! As a sidenote, the Peter bit at the start was supposed to acknowledge the concern that he has for Alaina, he isn't involved in her rescue.
> 
> I'm so sorry that it's been so long since I updated, but college is fucking me in the ass right now and I haven't had much time to write.
> 
> I am, however, starting a one-shot series! A Peter Quill x OFC has just been posted, and in the works are a Peter Parker x OFC and an Okoye x OFC.
> 
> Thanks for the lovely comments, as always!


	32. In A Daze

**_Alaina_ **

When Alaina saw that Sam was alive, breathing in front of her and holding her close to his body, she was ready to break down. She generally wasn't a crier but seeing him again, living, with no cuts on the insides of his wrists, she wanted to cry. So badly.

He was alive.

She was safe.

That was all that mattered.

"The team's outside," Sam told her hurriedly, holding his hands out to steady her when she stood. "They've cleared a path for us."

Al nodded wordlessly, not trusting her voice to work at the moment. Sam wore his Falcon gear sans the goggles, Redwing hovering over his shoulder like a parrot with his wings tucked neatly into the pack on his back.

She followed him out of the door – no dark space, no Riley, this was real, she was safe – and through the corridors, where she could hear the distant sounds of fighting in one of the other corridors.

Sam stopped abruptly before they turned another corner and looked at Al over his shoulder. Redwing followed in a similar manner, mimicking his owner. "We gotta fight, babe," he said, and it felt like years since she last heard that nickname. "Got any weapons on you?"

"Yeah, Stone gave me a machete before locking me in that room," she retorted dryly, her voice scratchy. God, when was the last time she had water?

Sam rolled his eyes with a small smile and grabbed something from the holster strapped to his thigh, handing it to Alaina. It was a pistol.

"Wait, Sam?" Alaina asked, pulling her best friend back towards her when he moved to duck around the corner. "I…" she trailed off in a whisper, watching as Sam's expression shifted into one of nothingness. "This is… This isn't real. Is it?"

"This is real, Al," Sam assured her, but it was said blankly, like a statement. "You don't think I'm real?" He stepped forward into Alaina's space, and she had to take a step back before she tripped. "Does this feel real, Ally?"

He dug his fingers into her shoulder and slammed her hard against the wall. She felt the impact crack her spine but there was no pain, only fear as she stared into Sam's dark eyes, his narrowed eyebrows and the snarl on his lips. His forearm pressed against her chest, elbow digging into her sternum.

"Sam," Al whispered with wide eyes, not daring to move. "This isn't you, this isn't—"

"You think you know me?" he asked, bringing his face close to hers. His lip quirked into an ugly side-smile. "You think you know me, huh, Al? Like Steve Rogers?" His smile widened as he felt her heart skip a beat in her chest. "Yeah… Doesn't feel good, does it? Knowing that you're not the most important person in my life anymore. I don't think you hated Steve because he put me in danger. I think you hated him because he replaced you."

"I love you, Sam, but you're really starting to piss me off," Al murmured.

"What are you gonna do about-?"

Alaina snapped her head forward and cracked it against his forehead, sending him stumbling backwards. She pushed her body forwards and pushed Sam back, remembering that she had the pistol in her grip, and pointed the weapon at Sam, who was standing a few meters in front of her.

Redwing was no longer here, but Sam's Falcon wings were spread wide behind him like a bird being threatened, spanning around 6 feet in width, and he had a pistol in his hand, too. It was pointed at Al.

The grip of her weapon quickly felt heavy in her palm. She was aiming a gun at her best friend.

"Ideas load the gun, but-"

"Instinct pulls the trigger," Alaina finished. "Real poetic."

His smirk died down. This wasn't Sam. It didn't look like her Sam. "Gonna use your instincts?" he asked. "You're gonna use that gun on me, babe? Because if you don't," he cocked the gun, "I might."

"No." Al let a soft smile tug at her lips. "You won't."

She turned the gun, pressed it against her temple and pulled the trigger.

* * *

Alaina didn’t wake with a start like she did if she had a nightmare – when she would sweat through the sheets, tears dried on her cheeks, and shake for hours until she could get her breathing under control.

No, she was calm. Eerily calm, even though she was buckled down in the chair. No sweat, no tears, no shaking. Only her heart pounding against her ribcage. For some reason, her feet were no longer restrained to the chair but Al could feel something wet dripping down her ankles, and confirmed it was blood when she peeked over her knees to see the bottom of her red-stained leggings. From the dream, maybe? Her wrists were sore, too, but not bleeding. Or throbbing like where her skin rubbed raw on her lower legs.

That’s how she knew this was real.

Sam was alive. Billy didn’t betray her. Riley… Riley was still dead, though.

It was further confirmed that this wasn’t a dream when she saw Stone sat there in front of her, in a chair on the other side of the table she was at. He kept his expression blank but Al could see the hints of agitation in the creases between his eyebrows, at the corners of his lips.

“I’m impressed,” Stone said in a soft voice, resting his forearms on the wood of the table. “Sure, I’m disappointed that you didn’t crack, but I’d be an idiot to say that you’re not… resilient to this kind of torture. It’s something, Alaina. It takes a special kind of person to not bend under the pressure.”

Al laughed breathily. “We’re on first name terms now?” she asked.

“I would insist you call me Tiberius, but I have a feeling you won’t,” he stated with a slight smile. “I’d even let you call me Ty.”

She stayed quiet for a few moments, eyebrows drawn together and fists clenched in the restraints. Slowly, she relaxed, unclenched and relaxed her shoulders to match Stone’s posture.

“This isn’t just about torture, is it?” Alaina questioned gently. “You were the one that delivered those flowers to my office, weren’t you? You sent people to break into my apartment, for what reason, I’m not sure, but it wasn’t just about whatever you’ve got planned here. What you’ve done to the other people that are here, I’m guessing you didn’t send a gift or anything of the sort to them.” Stone’s smile faded. “For some reason, I don’t hate you. I despise you, yes, but if you put a gun in my hand and I held it to your head, I wouldn’t pull the trigger.”

“Why’s that?”

Al shrugged – or at least shrugged as far as she could with the confined arms. “I don’t like death,” she told him truthfully. “I killed a lot of people in my time at Cerebus. They were Rawlins’ orders and I questioned him every time, but I still followed through. I guess I just had enough of thinking that everything is black and white: that bad people die, and good people live.”

“You’re being awfully honest this evening,” Stone commented.

“You think I’m trying to trick you?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. The buckles felt tight around her forearms, tight enough that she could do something about it, Al realised. She could feel the wood digging into the veiny flesh on her inner wrists. “I know you’d be smart enough to see past that if I was.”

“Hm.” Stone’s blue eyes narrowed for a split second, before he nodded slowly. “I think I…” His lip twitched in hesitation, index and middle finger tapping against the table. “I don’t think I like seeing you hurt, Alaina.” She had to hold her confusion at bay, keep it from spreading onto her face. He didn’t  _like_  seeing her hurt? “I have my obligations and I’ve worked on running this place for years. Not once have I ever questioned myself, questioned what I do, but now… it is suddenly less enjoyable. Watching others experience their biggest fears, the fears they do not realise they have, has always been my favourite part of these experiments. They try to hide their weaknesses, but in the end, they can’t.” Stone’s eyes darted to the door behind her before focusing back on her. “For some reason this one wasn’t as enjoyable. Maybe I’m withering with old age. Nearing 45 softens the soul.”

“You call their fears weaknesses,” Alaina noted, and began twisting her wrists within the restraints, keeping the part of her arm that Stone could see over the table as still as she could. The metal part of the belt slipped through the holes stabbed into the leather and the hold on her arms became looser. “Everyone has a fear.”

“Everyone has a weakness.”

“And the flowers?” she decided to ask, as opposed to ‘ _what’s yours?_ ’. “It was a pretty theatrical move for a man who seems so straight-forward.”

“I only go for the theatrics if I know it will work,” Stone explained, clasping his hands together on the table. He leaned forward slightly, head tilted like they were in a meeting slightly and he wanted to hear her thoughts. “Like the flowers and the note, vague as it may be, it fooled you into believing it was your girlfriend, Miss Romanoff. Correct?” He stared at her for confirmation, so Al gave a short nod. Not her girlfriend, but sure. “It made you paranoid. Weak. That’s why you were so trusting with Barnes.” Alaina stilled. “Because you’re pliable into believing anybody could be good as long as you gave them a chance.”

“He’s part of this?” she asked.

“Gods, no,” Stone chuckled, “that man is slippery. I’ve been searching for him for a while now, I almost had him, too, when he was at your apartment.” Wow, he’s really been stalking her for a while now. And she thought that it was Barnes doing the stalking. “You scared my men off, and they let him go.” He gave a bitter smile. “Loyalty comes at a price, unfortunately.”

“Scared?” Alaina echoed with a near-smirk. She pulled her wrist towards her body and it came completely loose, almost falling on the floor but Al caught it in time. She didn’t want to get caught now. It might be her only chance of escape. “If your men were scared of  _me_  in that scenario, I don’t know what to tell you, man.”

“They hear stories,” he stated.

“Right, that I’m a murdering psychopath.” She nodded, twisting her other wrist. “Does that bullshit spout from you or Rawlins?”

“Rawlins likes to exaggerate,” Stone said. His expression stayed neutral, surprisingly calm despite how deep they were getting. “But no, that’s only for the other prisoners. My guards are scared of you because, well…” Once again, that hesitation was back. It made Al wonder if he was really the boss in this equation, or if he was just plain scared to admit to shit. She presumed the latter. “Since we’re here and since you’ve been surprisingly open with me this evening, I’ll be just as open with you.”

Alaina wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or bad thing.

“I knew a woman when I was a young child, before the idea of this organisation even came to me,” he started, smiling sadly. He called this an organisation? “Her name was Joanne Cargill, an extraordinary woman who didn’t grow up in the best environment. Her father despised her because she was a sickly child, pretty much useless to him compared to her healthy, straight-A brother.” He unlinked his fingers and shifted his chair forward slightly, moving closer to Al. “But when she hit puberty, she realised that she was different.”

“A mutant?” she finished for him, remembering Leon’s earlier confession.

Stone didn’t look surprised by the knowledge. “Precisely,” he confirmed with a nod. “Superhuman strength and durability, too powerful for a young child. One night when her father was about to beat her with his belt, she decided to fight back. Didn’t realise her own strength and killed him. Killed her brother, too, when he attempted to drag her away from their dead parent and call the police.” He paused for a moment, carefully observing Alaina’s cool reaction. “She was mine and Tony’s friend from elementary school to high school before she went missing, though I don’t think Tony remembered her since he was a popular kid.”

“Where is this going?” Al asked, and the buckle came loose on her other wrist.

“She met someone, ten years later,” Stone continued like she didn’t speak. “Had a child with him before she went missing again. Abandoned him. Abandoned her child.” Sounded oddly familiar, Al thought. “Maybe you’re right, I do have a flare for the theatrics. I neglected to mention that--”

Screaming cut off their conversation rather abruptly, coming from outside the door. Stone stood up and moved to hurry to the door, so Alaina took her chance.

When his body was directly next to her chair, she grabbed his wrist and stood, taking in his bewildered expression of wide-eyed disbelief for a brief moment, before gripping the back of his neck and slamming his head against the edge of the table. He slumped to the floor, a trickle of blood running down his temple and eyes closed, mouth agape.

For someone with a lot of power, he sure was weak.

The shouting continued and Alaina heard numerous thuds from outside the door. Quickly, she took the chair she was previously occupying and shoved it under the door handle. It might not be effective against someone who could kick it down, but it would at least buy her time. For all she knew, there were people on the other side of the one-way mirror.

Al took one of the released restraints from the floor and propped Stone up against the table, securing his wrists behind one of the table legs. Another problem ticked off the list.

Footsteps sounded outside, the sound of running, and for a moment she thought that The Avengers had found her, but then she felt the heat. Coming from the vent above her, she found out when she hovered her hand over the metal, was purely hot air that almost burned her skin.

Shit.

She didn’t think Leon would actually listen to her.

Alaina knelt down next to Stone’s unconscious body and searched through his suit’s pockets – seriously, no one needed this many pockets – and thankfully, like this was a movie with a very convenient plotline, found a phone in one of the inside ones.

She hit the home button and it was already unlocked - Al decided to ignore the wallpaper that was of Stone and his puppy, hating that it was a pretty adorable photo – and clicked into contacts, praying to the gods that Tony’s phone number would be there. She couldn’t remember Sam’s or her dad’s, so she’d be pretty much screwed.

God answered her request, and she found the contact ‘Anthony Stark’, pretty formal for an ex, and hit the call button.

“ _What do you want, Ty?_ ” Tony answered drearily, sounding like utter shit.

“Try ‘Al’,” she said, unable to stop the bright smile creeping on her face. Her heart was thrumming with excitement and adrenaline.

“ _Alaina?_ ” Tony near-yelled, perking up instantly. “ _Wha- What? Where are you? Are you safe?_ ”

“Not really.” Al chuckled breathily. “I-I don’t know where I am, somewhere cold, apparently.”

“ _We’re on our way to your location now_ ,” he stated. “ _Stay on the line with me, okay? We’re on our way now, Wanda and I should get there quicker than the rest._ ”

“Are you flying in the suit?” Tony Stark flying in his Iron Man armour to come save her? She wasn’t a damsel in distress, but hell yes.

“ _No, I’m walking_ ,” the billionaire retorted dryly. “ _Yes, I’m flying the suit, Gunley. Tell me your situation. What’s going on at your end?_ ”

“Uh, well…” This is going to sound bizarre. “Your childhood friend Tiberius Stone is in charge of an organisation that helps potential mutants gain their powers, and he’s partnered with my old boss from Cerebus and this place is apparently filled with mutants, including an empathetic named Leon this and another one who makes you see your worst fear in vivid detail. Stone just told me about an old friend of yours called Joanne Cargill, who I think was the reason who started all of this.” There was a dazed pause, so Alaina continued. “As for my situation, I, uh, I think there’s a fire. Everyone’s running around outside losing their shit, Stone’s unconscious and it’s getting real fucking warm in here.”

“ _Is there any way you can shut off the vent?_ ” Tony asked, choosing to think about the whole situation later. They needed to focus on the present for now. “ _One of those shutter-y things?_ ”

“Shutter-y things,” Alaina echoed standing up. “Very technical terminology, MIT boy.” She saw that there was in fact a shutter that shut off the vent, and felt like an idiot for not realising it sooner.

“ _Don’t repeat that nickname to anyone else, ever_ ,” Tony murmured. “ _Especially Clint. I’m about 10 minutes out_.”

10 minutes.

She could wait another 10 minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hot damn I'm tired, spent the morning being sick and I no longer have a voice so it's been a great day:)
> 
> I have a Peter Quill x OFC published on my profile, so feel free to check that out. It's about 10k words long which is a lot for me and I'm honestly quite proud of it. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, tell me what you think about this chapter!


	33. Rescued

**_Alaina_ **

Ten minutes later, Tony cut off. He told her to stay in the room until someone found her since they didn't know if the mutants were hostile or not, so she did. Alaina sat on the floor with her back pressed against the door, next to the chair keeping it shut and the phone in her hand in case Tony decided to call her again.

Stone woke up at one point, stared at her with his mouth agape, so she kicked him in the head to knock him out again. Fucking asshole.

After a while, Alaina heard light footsteps approach her room and there was a knock on the door, a light knock that still managed to startle her.

She stood up, prepared for a fight to barge through the door with her fists pulled back and clenched when the door jolted open. The chair flew towards Al so she kicked it out of the way, and without much thought, grabbed the intruder as they entered and slammed them hard against the wall, pressing her body against theirs to keep them from moving.

Her dark eyes widened when they met emerald green.

"Natasha?" she whispered.

“Hey there, tiger." Natasha's face softened with her smile, the corners of her eyes creasing. "We secured the fire." She lifted a hand to Alaina's face and grazed her thumb over the scrape on her temple, from when Stone knocked her out in the warehouse. "Are you hurt?"

Alaina shook her head, realising how close they were. Pressed together, she could feel the leather of Natasha's catsuit pushed against her thin shirt and her leather-clad thighs against hers.

Now is not the time to think about her thighs, Alaina.

"Um, Stone is, uh…"

"Unconscious." Natasha nodded towards the man with a small smile, eyes still locked on hers. "I'll send Steve to pick him up. I need to take you to the quinjet." Al awkwardly stepped away and Natasha pushed herself off the wall, pressed a finger against her comm and sent in the order.

Instead of leaving the room like she was expecting, Natasha walked towards Alaina and trailed her fingers over her forearm, before moving lower and stopped at her hand. Her fingers circled her palm and her thumb came to rest on her wrist and she rubbed gently over the skin. Instinctively Al went to pull away, reminded of what she saw in her vision of Sam, but it was comforting, so she didn’t. It let her know that this was real.

"We'll be okay," Natasha told her, gave her wrist a light squeeze and then let go completely.

Al tried not to think about how cold she suddenly felt when Natasha pulled away. Instead, she followed her through the door, not before giving Tiberius Stone one last look. She felt hatred towards the man initially, but that hatred quickly turned into pity.

She was led through the corridors with no clue where they were going and turned a couple of corners until Natasha abruptly stopped and tilted her head, listening to what was being said through the comm.

"Barton?" she asked. "What's going on?" A few moments of pause. "Is he compromised?" Alaina frowned. That didn’t sound good. "I'll be there soon." She turned back to the woman. "Let's keep moving."

"Wait, no." Al shook her head. "Who's compromised, Natasha?"

"You need to get to the quinjet," Natasha said, completely ignoring her question. "We don't know what else they might have done to you."

"Who?" she asked, voice wavering. The woman only stared at her, half turned away since she wanted to keep moving and half turned towards Al because Al refused to shift. "Natasha. Don't bullshit me. Please."

Natasha sighed, opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again as she turned fully towards her. Alaina had never seen the assassin hesitate before. "There's a situation with Castle. He's being held hostage by someone in one of the cells."

"By who?" No response. Only a blank look in return. "I might not be a master spy but I know when someone isn't telling the truth. Is it Rawlins? Because I'll rip his slimy head right off—"

"It's Russo, Alaina." At first, she didn't quite understand what Natasha meant. "Russo is holding him hostage. He has a gun trained on him and Clint doesn't think he can diffuse the situation. They're backed up against a wall."

"Billy?" Al asked, unable to really think. "Billy's holding Frank hostage? With a gun to his head?"

"We have to get you back—"

"No, I’m not leaving." Alaina shrugged off Natasha's hand, which attempted to calm her. "Where are they?" Once again, the redhead looked hesitant to answer. "If this was Steve holding a gun to Clint, what would you do?"

Natasha let out a sigh through her nose, muttered something about regretting this, and then headed in the opposite direction, not before tossing something in Al's direction. "Follow me," she ordered. Alaina's eyes flickered to the object in her hand. It was a gun. "Russo is more likely to listen to you than Clint."

* * *

**_Tony_ **

Despite what Alaina said, the team wasn’t faced with dozens of angry enemy mutants when they entered the building. On the lower levels were just guards who were easy enough to take out, but on the upper levels, where Wanda and Vision were sent, were frightened mutants. All locked in cages with electric collars around their necks, visibly shaking as the couple released them, not before making sure they were stuck in a dream-like state to safely secure them in the jet. Just as a precaution.

Natasha was with Al, Sam and Steve were on their way to apprehend Stone, Rhodey was with a restrained Rawlins in the quinjet with a non-Hulked-out Bruce who was there as backup, all while Tony and Clint were trying to get Castle away from Russo. Clint was attempting to negotiate with Russo, but they both knew he was purposely ignoring him.

 “We have to get someone else here,” Tony told Clint, pulling his faceplate down. “If Russo doesn’t kill Castle first—”

“I know,” the archer readily agreed. “Maximoff and Vision need to stay with the mutants, you know Wilson will run in there without thinking, Russo has a gun in there and we can’t risk Castle’s life, talking clearly isn’t helping…” He shook his head, pressing his eyes shut for a moment. “Russo doesn’t have much left. If Castle keeps this up, he might not make it.”

There was a beat of silence between them, and like their prayers were about to be answered, two sets of light footsteps approached them.

“What’s going on?” an all-too-familiar voice demanded, not bothering with a greeting. “Where’s Frank?”

Tony had to force down the relief he felt when he was Alaina, standing in front of them with a gun in hand and a furrow in her brow. Yes, she was alive, but no one knew what Stone did to her. Tony wanted to crawl into his suit and hide there forever, he felt so responsible.

“Al?” Clint whispered with a smile. “God, you’re alive—”

“Yeah, I’m gay, alive and ready to thrive. No rhyme intended,” she responded a bit too casually for Tony’s liking. “What’s the situation?” Damn, it scared him how much she sounded like Steve then. Even the tone made him want to immediately comply with whatever the hell she ordered like when Steve used his Captain voice. “Are you all just going to stare at me like I’m dead or answer my question?” She was scared, he knew. That her friend was going to die. He could hear the hints of panic and desperation underlying in her voice.

“It’s not looking good. Russo has a gun to Castle’s head and we don’t know if they’ll listen,” Tony answered truthfully. From behind Al, Natasha gave him a wide-eyed look, as if to say, ‘ _why the hell would you tell her that?_ ’. “We can’t get Maximoff or Vision here, can’t risk letting Rawlins or the mutants escape.”

“You have Rawlins?” Al asked with a crease in her brow.

“He surrendered himself pretty easily,” Clint interjected. “He’s on lockdown in the jet. No chance of getting out.”

“Good.” Al let out a heavy breath and nodded. “You… You guys should go. Let me handle this.” She gestured to the locked cell door.

“He has a gun, Alaina,” Natasha pointed out, stepping so she was in her sights. “He’s not entirely himself. We can’t leave you alone with him.”

“So let Tony stay.” Okay, was not expecting  _that_. “They’re not just missions to me, Natasha. You might have read their files, but you don’t know them. I do.” A moment of silence where the two women stare at each other stubbornly, in determination, and it felt like a private moment that he was intruding on. Until Alaina spoke up again, that is. “They wouldn’t hurt me. Even if he’s not himself right now, I know he wouldn’t hurt me. Ever.”

“ _Stone’s secured in the quinjet_ ,” Steve spoke through their comms. “ _What’s the situation down there?_ ” Wow, almost word for word with Al.

“Gunley wants us to leave her to deal with the hostage situation,” Natasha responded. A look of hurt flashed across Alaina’s face, likely at the cold tone and the use of her last name.

“I’ve dealt with hostage situations before,” Al informed them, though it seemed directed towards the assassin. “I’m not an amateur. I know what I’m doing.”

“Dealing with a few doesn’t mean you’ve—”

“ _Secure the lower floors with Barton, Romanoff,_ ” Steve ordered. “We’ll see you back at the jet.” He hasn’t told Sam that Al’s safe, which was for the best since he would barge in and likely damage the entire operation.”

“I’m not—"

“Tasha,” Clint cut in, giving his friend a long look. “We’ll make sure the other floors are secured and leave Tony and Al to deal with this. Okay?”

Clint stared at her pointedly, but it didn’t seem like she was willing to back down. Judging by her hard look and the resolve set in her features, she wasn’t going to. Not until Al spoke up again.

“Trust me.”

Those two words, those two words that have been uttered by probably every human on the planet and so forth, managed to break Natasha’s determination. She nodded, sent Tony a warning look that could be interpreted many ways, and then left with Clint trailing behind her.

“So,” Tony clapped his metal-clad hands together, “what’s the plan, boss?”

“I talk to him and hope I don’t get shot in the face,” Al said, staring at the door. She let out a quiet laugh. “Wow. That should be the name of my biography.”

“I’m here if anything happens,” Tony reminded her gently, taking a step back to give her space. “Whatever happens, don’t rush in there. Don’t get yourself hurt.”

She didn’t agree nor disagree, which only concerned him more.

Alaina stepped towards the door and pressed her palm against the surface, staring at the metal like she could see right through it. “Billy?” she called out, knocking lightly with her other hand. “It’s me. It’s Alaina.” There was no form of response and although Tony couldn’t see the woman’s expression, he knew she was hurting. “Let me in, Bill, please, just let me in. I know you’re not gonna hurt Frank and I know you wouldn’t hurt me. Everyone else is gone. It’s just me. I’m not going to hurt you.”

There was a heavy silence. So heavy that Tony could hear each breath Al released, but he couldn’t hear what was happening on the other side of the door.

Until there was a crash. And shouting.

“Tony?”

“Stay back,” he demanded, hardly waiting a second before blasting the door open with his repulsor.

Alaina rushed in immediately, but she wasn’t fast enough.

A gunshot sounded.

Tony blasted Russo, who hit the wall with an ugly thud, and his gun flew out of his hand. Al kicked it out of the room before he could take it again, and her eyes landed on Castle.

Blood spread from the wound on his chest and his face paled when he saw the injury. “Ally?” he murmured shakily, eyes wide.

Tony called for a medic right away and knelt down next to the man, ripped the shirt from his body and used it to press down on the wound. Al shakily pushed away his metal-clad hands and used her own to press down.

Castle put his hand over hers. “Al… I’m…”

“If I can survive literally dying, you can handle a bullet to the chest, Castle,” she stated. Her lips were set in a tight line but trembled, like her arms shook as though pushing down was causing her pain. “If you die now, I swear, I’m gonna trash your grave.”

He chuckled throatily and then winced. “I’m getting cremated, fucking asshole.”

“Then I’ll shove your ashes in a Chipotle toilet.”

Medics arrived, Castle was led into the med bay of the quinjet, and Al followed, hands still hovering over the bullet wound.

Eventually, she was pushed away and left outside. Alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hated this chapter so much that I decided to do a double update lol, so there's another chapter about to be posted! It's not super long, but it's happy at least.
> 
> I'll probably come back to this one and rewrite it at one point.


	34. Adopting A Super-Soldier

**Two Weeks Later**

* * *

**_Alaina_ **

Alaina never thought she would enjoy her time off work as much as she currently was. She was officially living in her new house with a fridge full of food – yes, she even had an ice dispenser – and was out of that shitty two-roomed apartment. After a long meeting with her boss, Principal Morita, Al was originally going to be fired from the school, but apparently his grandfather was part of the Howling Commandos so Steve spoke with him, and then she was able to keep her job.

Stone was sent to The Raft as soon as he landed back in America – Al found out she was taken to a deserted part of Canada – while Billy and Rawlins were in The Avengers HQ prison, where they would be watched 24/7. Sam told her that she was allowed to talk to them face-to-face, but she wasn't ready. Until Frank was out of the hospital and back on his feet, she might, but it would be like picking at a fresh wound doing it now.

Sam was basically attached at her hip when Bruce and Tony performed various tests on her to make sure there was no internal damage, thankfully there was none, and it even got to the point where he literally lived with her. It took a few days of convincing for him to actually let her go outside without company. Not like she had to, anyway, with everything she had in her house.

Now it was approaching midnight and Alaina was sat inside her large living room, watching Orange is the New Black on Netflix – yes, she had a Netflix account now – and silently marvelling at how attractive all the characters were, in their own ways. Even Red was hot, giving off a Russian-dominatrix vibe.

Okay, she definitely had a thing for redhead Russians.

A quiet knocking on the back window caught her attention and she paused the TV, briefly panicked when she thought she was being robbed, but then she remembered who it would be.

Alaina gestured to the man on the other side of the window and moved to the door, opening it. He walked through and closed the door behind him, pulling the hood away from his head.

"Are you hurt?" Al asked, turning on the light to get a good look at him.

"No," Bucky answered, stoically still as usual. Oh, yeah, she forgot to mention the fact that The Winter Soldier basically lived with her now, but never during the day. The complete opposite of a vampire, he only came here at night for somewhere safe and warm to stay, and he usually sat like a statue, but sometimes accepted the food and shower Al offered him.

"Okay." She nodded with narrowed eyes. He looked shifty. "Do you want anything to eat? I have some leftover ramen in the fridge."

"No. Thank you." Alaina noticed that he had a fabric bag clutched tightly to his stomach, like he was hiding something. "Can I use your bathroom?"

"Bucky," she said slowly, "what's in the bag?"

His eyes darted to hers, unusually wide. "Nothing" The bag shifted in his grip and something moved inside it. "Just food."

"Do you have an octopus in there?" Al asked. "Open the bag." He took a step back towards the door. "Bucky, whatever it is, I won't be pissed, okay? You can keep whatever it is, I just wanna know what it is."

Bucky's throat bobbed, the bag moved, his fist tightened around where he was holding, and then he nodded with reluctance. He stepped towards Alaina and held out the bag for her to take.

With furrowed eyebrows, she took it from him and looked down, only to see…

A puppy.

Like, an actual puppy. Inside a bag. That just came from Bucky Barnes.

The dog jumped up to greet the human but fell back down since it was inside a bag, but still, its tail wagged and it stared up at her like she was some kind of Mosiah.

"A dog," Al commented and looked back at Bucky, whose lip twitched upwards at the sight of the animal. An animal person, then. "Where did you find it?"

"Him." He stopped, clearing his throat. "He's a… it's a him."

"Bucky."

"People were ignoring him," Bucky told her with sad eyes that matched the dog's. "I didn't want to leave him alone. It's cold." He shifted on his feet. "I… I can take him to the pound."

Alaina watched Bucky's expression, glanced at the puppy, looked back at Bucky, and then sighed. "Go get my wallet," she said to him. "Take it with you and buy some dog food, dog bowls, dog shampoo- whatever you can find. It's pretty late so Walmart is probably the only thing open. Use my bike."

The assassin's eyes lit up – yes, literally  _lit up_  – and he was gone in a minute, bike keys and wallet in hand.

Al sighed and looked back at the puppy. "Why do I get myself into situations like this?" The puppy tilted his head and panted. "God, I hate myself." She pulled the dog out of the bag and he immediately latched onto her neck, licking her face with his tail wagging like crazy behind him. "Okay, okay." She winced and held the puppy by his sides, pulling him away from her face. "That was rude. But you're adorable, so I forgive you."

He was a very tiny dog, maybe the size of her head, and a bloodhound puppy, his fur a leathery brown. He had large brown eyes and such a  _cute nose, oh my god, she might die, this was so adorable!_

Pulling herself together, Alaina sat down on her couch with the puppy in her lap, and instead of running away to explore like she expected, he nestled into her lap with his nose pressed against her stomach, large eyes staring up at her. She almost died but remembered that she had no idea how to look after a dog. A dead puppy wouldn't help anyone.

Sam had a dog when he was a kid. He could help, right?

She grabbed her phone and dialled his number. Despite it being late, he picked up immediately.

" _Are you okay?_ "

"Not kidnapped or dead, Sammy," she greeted, using her other hand to pet the dog's head.

"That's good to hear. What is my fourth favourite gay doing calling me at this time?"

" _Fourth?_ " Al nearly exclaimed. "I can accept third, but  _fourth?_  Sammy?"

" _Rosie O'Donnell_."

"Rosie O'Donn- Okay, I give up." She shook her head. "Right. I, uh, need advice."

Sam sighed. " _What advice would you need at midnight?_ "

"Hypothetically," she started, unsure with how to really explain the situation, "if, um, if I somehow obtained a puppy and had no idea what to really do with said puppy, what advice would you give me to keep it alive?"

There was a beat. " _How the hell did you get a dog—?_ "

"Hypothetically, Sam!"

" _You have a dog!_ "

"No, I don't—"

" _Al_."

"Bucky tried sneaking him into the house."

" _Good god_ ," Sam groaned. Another thing she forgot to mention, The Avengers knew that Bucky occasionally inhabited her home. Steve wanted to see him, but Alaina had to remind him that he needed time to sort his head out. " _Where the hell did Barnes find a puppy?_ "

"I don't even know, he said that he found him on the streets and Bucky looked sad when I was about to reject him, and now he has my wallet and is shopping for dog stuff."

" _First you adopt a super-soldier and then you adopt a dog._ " Sam sighed. She could imagine his head shaking. " _Just… soak the dog food in water for a few minutes so it doesn't hurt his teeth, give him some water and let him sleep in your bed. I'll come over tomorrow_."

"Okay." Al was about to hang up but then stopped, and chewed her lip in thought. "Hey, Sam?"

" _Yeah, babe?_ "

"How is, uh… How's Natasha?" she asked, scuffing her foot against her carpet. The dog's tail stopped wagging like he could sense her mood.

" _Stuck in a constant cycle of regret and guilt. She still hasn't called you?_ " Sam exhaled, already knowing the answer to that question. " _I thought Nat was supposed to be the mature one_."

"No, I mean, we've been speaking a lot. She visited the other day, bought me a coffee machine." Al shook her head with a quiet laugh. It was one of her favourite housewarming gifts. "She doesn't talk about what happened, though. About Stone or anything. And we haven't planned a second date, yet. I don't know if it'll even happen."

" _It will_ ," Sam assured his friend. " _She feels guilty about the whole thing, Tony, too. He's been stuck in his lab for three days now and Natasha keeps going to the gym, won't stop unless she's out with Clint. Superheroes don't know how to deal with stuff healthily, apparently_."

"Well, you're the resident counsellor, Sam," Alaina said. "Best get to it before The Tower self-destructs."

" _More like the inhabitants_ ," Sam retorts. " _I love them and everything, I really do, but…. Ugh_." He let out a frustrated breath. " _It's like some of them think that problems go away if you just ignore it. You'd think after years of being alive they'd know better_."

"Some people are wired differently to others," she pointed out. "Remember what we were like after Riley? He…" The image of him bleeding with the bomb beeping inside him flashed through her mind and her chest constricted. "We were probably worse than they were. Well, me. Since I ignored you for a full year."

Like he could sense her abrupt stress, the puppy sat up on her lap and placed his paws on her chest, giving her as good as a hug as a tiny puppy could. Al used her free hand to rub up and down his back, and somehow felt relaxed by the gesture. It was like he was speaking to her.

" _Well, it's not like anyone died this time around_ ," Sam grumbled. " _Have any of them even spoken to you since you moved in?_ "

"Steve and Wanda have called a couple of times, Bruce, too, to check up on my health," she began listing off, smiling down at the pup. "Clint visited with an actual suitcase full of food and he asked me to hide Poptarts in my cupboard so Thor wouldn't somehow get them…"

" _Yeah, they're weird about that_."

"Trust me, I noticed." Al shook her head and relaxed back into the sofa. "Rhodey called, Natasha, and obviously you since I've seen you every day because apparently you took over my role as mother…"

" _Coming from the gal who adopted an assassin_."

"… I only talked to Tony after the whole legal shit," she continued, ignoring the comment. "Oh, and Pops and Paul visited yesterday. They pitched in and bought me a life-size cardboard cut-out of Chad Kroeger. He's glued to my bedroom door to warn away intruders." The puppy tilted his head at her in confusion. "He's the leader singer of Nickelback."

" _Did you just talk to the dog?_ "

"Um. No." Clearing her throat, she moved on. "Did I tell you that Pops is getting a new house with a full-time carer?"

" _What, seriously?_ " he asked, a little bewildered. " _I know you got a shit ton of money from Stone's company, but enough to get another house?_ "

"I, uh, did some convincing." She chewed her lip to hide a proud grin. The puppy tried mimicking her action but ended up slobbering all over her pants. He was lucky she was actually wearing any. "I threatened to tell the media and ruin their company that their boss kidnapped me using money from their company if they didn't fund his housing and care. They've already got a shitstorm with Stone gone so it was pretty easy."

" _Damn, girl_." Sam chuckled. " _You're evil._ "

"Yeah, well, when you work under an asshole, you get shit on."

" _Good metaphor, Al_."

"It's too accurate, I know." She smiled. "Anyway, I'll leave you to it. See you tomorrow?"

" _I'll be there at lunch. Clint has a dog, so I'll bring him over_."

"Sounds good- wait, Clint has a dog?" Alaina gaped, offended. "And you never told me?"

" _See you tomorrow_."

"Wait—"

He hung up.

Al sighed and put down her phone, focusing her attention back on the dog whose ears were perked up.

"What do I do, doggo?" she asked, picking him up under his armpits so he was in front of her. His head tilted, tongue hanging out of his mouth. "I never to name you, don't I? Or should I let Bucky do it since he found you?" He panted in her face. "I don't know what that means, dog." His mouth snapped shut and his eyes turned sad. "Okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it in a bad way. Do you want me to name you with, like, a normal name?" His mouth re-opened in a weird puppy-like smile. Could dogs smile? She'd have to ask Clint. "I'm going to give you some names and, uh… I don't know what I'm doing. I'm talking to a dog."

On cue, Alaina heard her bike drive back down the road.

This was gonna be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta love a time-jump that makes writing things more convenient for the author!
> 
> I'm going back to fluffy and cuteness tbh, tell me what you thought about this one.
> 
> Thanks for the awesome comments as always!


	35. That's Pretty Gay

**_Alaina_ **

Okay.

So, Alaina was freaking out a small bit.

It was 4 in the morning –  _4 in the bloody morning_  – and she was still awake.

Bucky came back with a hundred dollars' worth of dog supplies – a hundred dollars from her bank account – and he helped her feed, bathe, play with the puppy, and of course come up with a name to call him from now on.

Cujo was actually pretty well-behaved and only acted up when he was put in the bathtub, but that was probably because he was a street dog who had never been bathed before. He even went outside to piss.

Alaina and Bucky used the toys to tire him out, and after an hour of constantly moving, Cujo finally fell asleep.

She texted Sam a quick update twenty minutes ago to inform him of the progress they were making if they could even call it that, and she let Bucky put the dog to sleep. Um, not literally put the dog to sleep, though. Bucky would probably kill a thousand men before he hurt that puppy.

Things were suspiciously quiet for a while as Al paced her living room, cleaning up half-hazardly and making a cup of coffee since she knew she wouldn't be sleeping that night, so she naturally assumed that Bucky had left through the window.

Boy, how she was wrong.

She first checked her own room and there was no Cujo, and after a brief moment of pure panic that the dog was kidnapped, she found Cujo in Bucky's guest room – yes, he had a guest room because she wouldn't allow him in a million years to sleep in her garage or shed.

But Cujo wasn't alone.

He was curled up on Bucky's stomach on the bed, snoring away, and Bucky had his metal hand resting next to his paw.

But that's not it, my friend.

Bucky was asleep, too, eyes closed, and lips parted as he exhaled in a quiet snore.

That might not sound like such a huge thing. Super soldier or not, he still needed sleep, but he has never once slept in the house. Even with Alaina constantly assuring him that he was safe in her house, he always snuck out during the night to probably sleep in the streets.

And now he was sleeping in a warm bed with a puppy on him.

With a soft, slight exasperated, smile, Al softly closed the door and moved back downstairs.

This was literally the definition of progress.

Checking her phone, she saw that she had a text. But it wasn't from Sam.

It was from Natasha.

 **Call me x** , it said.

A weird squealing sound escaped the back of Al's throat when she read the kiss at the end.

She just got an 'x' from _Natasha freaking Romanoff!_

Physically attempting to calm her nerves – it didn't work – she called Natasha.

After a single ring, she picked up.

" _I hear you've got a dog_ ," she started, no greeting needed.

Al frowned. "How the hell do you know that?" she asked.

" _Sam stormed on my floor and told me to deal with your shit so he could get a good night's rest_ ," Natasha answered. " _His words, not mine_."

"Oh, god." Al groaned, flopping down on her sofa. She completely forgot the time. "I'm so sorry. You can go back to sleep, Natasha."

The redhead chuckled softly. It was oddly nice and warm for such a short chuckle. Like a soft breeze. Or the ocean waves.

Okay. Apparently, Alaina turned into Shakespeare when she was tired.

" _I wasn't sleeping much to begin with_ ," she admitted. " _I'd rather be talking to you than sat staring at my wall for hours._ "

"Walls can be interesting." Al shrugged.

" _They generally don't talk back_ ," Natasha pointed out.

"Not unless you use your imagination, Miss Romanoff," Al retorted. "But while we're talking, I think I may or may not have another date planned out for us. I even have a backup in case you hate it and want to kill, or if you accidentally slit my throat…"

" _A part of me is scared but the other part is intrigued_ ," the assassin spoke. " _What have you got planned, Miss Gunley?_ "

"Well, here's a story for you." Alaina cleared her throat. "I once went on a date with this girl, really cute, a redhead, kinda frightening but very hot, and she kept our date a secret. She even blindfolded me, if you would believe it."

" _Is that so?_ "

"Mhmm," Al hummed, sinking her teeth into her lower lip to stop herself from breaking out in a grin. "And it turned out to be a pretty excellent date, one of my favourites – second to the guy who kept talking about his bowel movements because I learned a lot from him. Anyway, the element of mystery with this redheaded woman who you definitely don't know was what made the date pretty great, rhyme intended. So, I'm hoping that you'll enjoy this one."

" _Well, I'm intrigued_." Alaina could hear the smile in her voice. " _Is the time and place also going to be part of the element of mystery?_ "

"This Saturday, around lunch," Al stated, and she proud of herself for not framing it like a question. "If you're not busy that day?" Eh, it lasted a moment.

" _Unless someone tries dominating the planet again, we should be okay_ ," Natasha said. " _What's going on in your end now?_ "

"Well, I, uh-" Al stammered for a moment. "You might want to tell Sam not to come over tomorrow." If Bucky's still asleep, that is.

" _Okay. Why?_ "

"I may or may not have a super soldier that isn't Captain America sleeping in my house," she answered, chewing her lip. "And I may or may not want to make sure he sleeps for at least one full night, and I may or may not have a feeling that, uh…" She paused. "Bucky is sleeping with the dog and I don't want to disturb him by having Sam or Clint come over."

There was a moment of heavy silence.

" _Barnes is sleeping in your house now?_ "

"Uh, yeah?" she asked, not too sure what Natasha's tone meant. "It's safer than him being out on the streets, you know, getting shot at. Or stabbed."

" _Alaina…" Natasha sighed._

"I've already heard it from everyone, Natasha. That I'm an idiot for even considering letting him in my house," Al said. "I don't want to hear it from you, too."

" _No, I wasn't going to say that_ ," she assured the woman. Al leaned forward and took her mug of now-cold coffee – Sam got her it for her birthday a few years back and it said, ' _Boob Man'_ , with the two O's drawn like boobs. It became tradition in college, and for every birthday and Christmas he would get her awful mugs with awful catchphrases on them. Her personal favourite was the ' _My Job Is So Top Secret That I Don't Even Know What I'm Doing'_  one. " _I think it's good what you're doing_ ," Natasha continued. " _Barnes needs someone he can trust that isn't Steve. He clearly trusts you if he's sleeping in your house, Alaina, but he isn't stable. One wrong move and he'll go back into his Soldier mode. You've seen it happen._ "

Subconsciously, Al brought her hand and rubbed it over her neck. The bruises were almost faded now, a mustard yellow with dots of purple where his fingertips dug into her neck. With all that's been happening recently, she pretty much forgot about it until Sam pointed it out. Bucky would always glance at her neck guiltily when the lights were on and she didn't doubt that he still felt responsible. Well, technically he was, but she didn't blame him. She never did, really.

"I know," Alaina breathed, rubbing a hand over her eyes. "I'd be a dumb bitch if I didn't know what he's capable of, what he's done and what he might do. That doesn't mean he's a lost cause. Just…" She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Trust me on this."

" _Okay. I trust you_." Whether Natasha actually believed her or not, Al didn't know. " _As a side note, other than looking after Barnes and the puppy, what are you doing tomorrow?_ "

"Might go visit Frank," Al answered with a shrug, although Natasha couldn't see her. "He's on bedrest now and he loves dogs, so Cujo might cheer him up a bit. He hates being stuck in one place."

" _Cujo?_ " Natasha repeated. " _You named your adorable puppy after a murderous monster dog with rabies who murders everyone?_ "

"I'll teach him some tricks. And he is a bloodhound, so don't be too judgemental," Al muttered with a smile. "He could probably knock someone out with his ears."

" _I was imagining a Bernese dog, in all honesty_."

"Really? So what would you call a Bernese dog?"

" _Bernard_."

Al accidentally snorted. "Bernard," she echoed. "You would name a Bernese dog  _Bernard?_ "

" _I would._ " Natasha softly chuckled. " _But after Bernard Cribbins, not the breed name._ "

"Bernard Cribbins…?" Alaina had to wrack her brain for that one. "Are you… Do you mean Donna's dad from Doctor Who? How the hell do you know the name of the actor that plays Donna's dad from Doctor Who?"

" _I don't usually put my secret obsession with Doctor Who on the record_ ," Natasha explained, " _but the fact that you figured it out in such a short time means that I can trust you with this._ "

"Wow, I've never been happier than I am now to call you my girlfriend." Al grinned from ear to ear. "Why is Doctor Who such a British show? I know it's all British actors and it's filmed in Britain, but it's such a classic show. Like, I would die for David Tennant. And Christopher Eccleston. And Rose Tyler- oh, my  _god_ , Rose Tyler is so—"

" _Alaina_ ," Natasha gently interrupted, amused. " _Did you just call me your girlfriend?_ "

"Uhhhh…."  _Oh, shit._  "I meant it, like, um… you know, like, how people call lesbian couples gal pals because they don't like that word- wait, no, I don't mean it like we're a couple… I…" Al cringed at herself. "I'm not helping myself, am I?"

"Absolutely not," Natasha murmured cutely. "But I'm perfectly okay with you calling me your girlfriend, just for the record."

Okay.

Alaina's brain just short-circuited.

Long-circuited.

Because her mind was…

She didn't even know.

Wait.

What just happened?

" _I just asked you to be my girlfriend_ ," Natasha explained. Did Al say that out loud? " _I didn't think I would have to explain it._ "

"Are you sure?" she blurted, chewing her lip. "I mean, I'm sure you know what you want, but I'm, like… I'm me, you know?"

" _I know it's you. That's why I asked._ "

Al's heart stuttered in her chest at that. "That's very homosexual of you, Miss Romanoff," she said, trying to keep a straight voice. Hah,  _straight_.

" _Well… Do I get an answer?_ "

"Do you really need an answer to that?" Alaina held back a laugh.

" _I can hear Clint listening in in the vent above me, so yes. In order to fulfil his gay fantasies_."

"Clint is actually in a vent?" Al asked. She thought Sam was joking when he told her.

" _You get used to it after a while_ ," Natasha shrugged it off. " _So?_ "

"Of course I'll be your girlfriend, dumbass."

There was a crash on the other end that startled Alaina, as well as a very loud ' _yes!_ ' that came with it.

"Natasha?"

" _Clint just fell through the vent," she explained hurriedly. "I'll call you tomorrow_."

And then she hung up.

Alaina grinned to herself.

Her girlfriend is Natasha freaking Romanoff.

* * *

**_Natasha_ **

"So," Clint started, shifting in his bed, "about Al."

The redhead almost rolled her eyes as she adjusted the pillows behind his head and under his arm. "You're sat in the med bay with a broken arm and you're worried about my relationship?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I have my priorities," he said with a Cheshire grin. God, she wanted to hit him sometimes. "So… are you gonna go on a date? What's happening? When's it going to be? What are you gonna do? How are you gonna dress? Like- just, what?" He couldn't hide his grin.

Jesus. Even in a year's time, Clint would still be fangirling like crazy over the two.

Wait… Did Natasha just assume they'd be together after a year?

(Yes, she did).

"I'm letting her plan it this time around," Natasha explained, checking Clint's temperature. Warm, but no fever. "She doesn't like going out to dinner for dates, in a restaurant or anything like that, so I don't know what she has planned, when or where it's going to be." Removing her hand from his head, she took a seat next to his bed. "You should ask her."

"Why would I do that when I can ask you?"

"You don't have any friends outside the team," she pointed out. "Why not talk to her a bit and get to know her better?"

"Hey!" Clint exclaimed, offended. "I have many friends outside the team, thank you very much."

"Government officials don't count," Natasha said.

"Fury is technically no longer a government official," Clint argued, smug.

"Okay, but he is legally dead," the redhead pointed out. "The only friend you have outside the team and government is a dead man. He's more like your dad, anyway."

"That's beside the point." Clint shook his head. "Al's my friend. We hang out sometimes. We even hang out alone."

"You mean that one time you went to her house to hide Poptarts from Thor?"

" _And_  when I took her to The Tower before your date."

"Clint."

"What?"

"Stop arguing with me on this. You know I'm right, and the rest of the team would agree with me," Natasha stated. Clint's lips pursed into a pout, looking too much like a stubborn toddler. "Seriously, Clint. You should go visit her this week, go out and make a day of it. Like when Steve visited her at the school."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to set us up," Clint observed with suspicion lacing his tone. "Why are you so adamant about this?"

"Because you deserve it." Natasha lightly pinched his arm. "You're a good guy, Clint."

"Did Al somehow manage to turn you gayer?" Clint raised an eyebrow. "You never compliment me."

"Might as well get it out of my system." Natasha smiled with a shrug. "You're the best person I know, Clint. You're always here for me even when I have my bad days. Even when I'm not there for you." She clasped his hand in hers. "And I can't thank you enough for that."

Clint turned his head away and sniffed.

"Are you crying?" she asked.

"No!" Clint yelled defensively. "It's Halloween soon and I'm just doing my best impression of a fountain."

"You're dressing as a fountain for Halloween?"

"No, I... Yes. I'm dressing as a fountain."

"Okay, Clint." Natasha stifled a laugh and stood up. "I'll leave you to your, uh,  _impressions_. I'll be back in an hour." She walked through the door with a smile lingering on her lips.

Damn.

Alaina Gunley was her girlfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: After 30+ chapters and 90,000 words, they're finally dating. I wasn't lying when I said slow-burn, you know.
> 
> Some cute Nalaina shit and a brief cute (platonic) Clintasha moment because I'm a cute mood.
> 
> By the way for chapter 36 or 37 I'm doing a Halloween special where everyone dresses up, so please give me any good costumes that The Avengers would wear or what you'd like to see.
> 
> Next chapter is going to be a date chapter!
> 
> Thanks for reading:)


	36. Bake & Skate

**_Alaina_ **

Sam had Cujo.

Bucky had the key to her garage in case he needed somewhere to sleep that wasn't his room.

Alaina had everything she needed.

 _Almost_  everything she needed.

And lastly, Natasha was on her way.

Yes, Alaina was forcing Natasha to come over for her date idea. Was that selfish? Probably.

But she had a great night planned out for her girlfriend.

Yes, her girlfriend.

Alaina Gunley's girlfriend was Natasha Romanoff.

Natasha Romanoff was Alaina Gunley's girlfriend.

Goddamn.

Even though Al had meticulously planned out everything ahead of time, she underestimated how long it would take to bake a cake. She thought that it would be sweet to make something for Natasha, something she could throw together in under an hour, but nope. She completely lost track of time tidying her house that she's only put out the measured ingredients. Not even the utensils.

She was so excited to bake Natasha and herself a cake.

So, when she heard a knock on her front door, there was panic.

She's fucked everything up and she was going to cry herself to sleep that night.

Mentally conjuring ways to shoot herself in the head without dying, Alaina yelled for Natasha to ' _come in!_ ' as she paced frantically around her kitchen, clicking away on her laptop to find a decent recipe. Maybe she could bake it in less than 5 seconds?

Time travel would be a pretty useful power right about now.

"Hey there," Natasha spoke up from behind her. Alaina turned and saw her leaning against the doorframe, a gift bag in hand. She was just… when was she not gorgeous? Wearing black jeans, a black tee and a brown leather jacket, she was honest to god perfect. "You look a little…"

"Dead? Dying? Ready to die?" Al rushed out unintentionally. She wasn't even feeling butterflies, she was so panicked about the cake. "God, I'm such a failure," she muttered into her palms, slumping against her kitchen counter.

She heard something being placed on the floor before a quiet, "Hey," met her ears. Soft hands gently clasped around Al's fingers and pulled them away from her face, and her dark eyes were met with green. It somehow calmed her nerves, just staring into them. "What's going on?"

"I tried baking a cake for us to eat before we go out, but I lost track of time," Alaina told her. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but… ugh." She dropped her shoulders and laced her fingers through Natasha's and held them next to her, inadvertently pulling the assassin closer. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Natasha's lip quirked as her thumb ran over Al's skin. "What time do we have to leave?"

"Any time, really," Al said with a shrug. "But I was thinking around 7, in a half hour."

"Would it be life-changing if we were a little late?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Alaina frowned. "Uh, sure… Why?"

"So we can bake a cake, moron." Natasha smiled sweetly as she unclasped their hands, moving to assess the mess on the counter. "Have you got a recipe in mind?" She looked at her expectantly.

Al could only stare at her with a dumbfounded look. What the hell did she do to deserve this woman?

"Well, uh," she stammered, the nerves finally creeping at the back of her neck. "Yeah, here." She leaned over to unlock her laptop and watched as Natasha skimmed over it, a furrow between her brows.

"' _Mary Berry's Chocolate Cake Recipe'_?" Natasha read, looking over her shoulder questioningly.

"Hey, I trust Mary Berry with my life, okay?" Alaina said in a warning tone, picking up a spatula to point it at her. "Don't diss the queen."

"Not dissing." Natasha held up her hands in mock surrender. "I just prefer Jamie Oliver, that's all."

"God, who are you?" Al shook her head. "And I already bought all the ingredients for this one, so deal with it."

"I'm dealing." Natasha chuckled. "I read out the ingredients and you check if you've got them, okay?"

"You don't trust me?" Al put the spatula down.

"Just a precaution. Now get to it."

Natasha listed off the ingredients and Al smugly declared that she remembered everything. The redhead gave an eyeroll but was still smiling, which felt like an accomplishment in Al's eyes.

"Preheat the stove to 180C, or gas 4," Natasha told her, reading off the website. "I'd like to point out that this has 3.2 stars out of 5."

"But it also has 8 steps, Natasha, which is better than Jamie Oliver's 20 million step plan to make a cupcake," Alaina pointed out, preheating the stove.

"Jamie Oliver doesn't get 3.2 stars, though," Natasha remarked cockily. At Al's glare, she shrugged with a closed-lipped smile and turned back to the recipe. "Beat together the eggs, flour, caster sugar, butter and baking powder until smooth in a large mixing bowl." She looked to Al. "Have you got a bowl?"

" _Have I got a bowl?_ " Alaina scoffed, opening the cupboard to grab a large mixing bowl. "I'm not a barbarian. What do you think I eat noodles out of?"

"Clint once tried cooking ramen in a coffee pot," Natasha informed her, cocking a hip against the counter. "Steve wasn't too happy. Neither was Tony when the Tower had to be evacuated."

"That doesn't even surprise me," Al muttered, placing the bowl on the counter and grabbing the right ingredients. "Are you gonna sit there and look cute or are you gonna help me beat?"

"Can't I do both?" she teased but moved forward to help anyway.

"Got me there."

Natasha winked and Alaina swore her heart stopped, but decided not to dwell on it when Natasha began adding the ingredients to the large mixing bowl.

"Would you like to do the honours of cracking the eggs?" Al asked, holding 3 eggs in her palm, outstretched towards the assassin. "I would, but the last time I cracked an egg I smashed it against the bowl and it splattered twenty feet in every direction. I broke the bowl, too."

Natasha paused and gave her a weird look. "How old were you when this happened?"

"Like, twenty," Al answered. "In my defence, I was drunk and Sam tried eating a raw egg, shell and all, the same night, so…"

"You were baking while drunk?" Natasha asked, taking eggs from Al and cracking all three in the bowl at the same time with a weird gracefulness. How could the act of cracking eggs be so graceful?

"We weren't baking." At the redhead's questioning expression, Alaina shrugged. "College was a weird time."

Natasha shook her head with a smile and mixed the ingredients together until it became smooth and buttery.

"Put the cocoa in a separate mixing bowl and add the water a little at a time to make a stiff paste," Al read from the recipe. "Add to the cake mixture. Okay, you keep beating and I'll start pouring."

"Please stop using beating as a verb."

"If Mary can do it, I can, too."

"Good Lord," Natasha muttered under breath.

Alaina nudged her with her foot and gave her a side-smile, and they went back to mixing.

It was awkward for Al to mix the cocoa and water with a spatula since it was almost the width of the bowl – she ignored Natasha silently laughing to herself at her side, her shoulders shaking as she mixed her own ingredients.

Al poured her mixture into Natasha's and they whisked all of that together, before pouring it into the cake tins that Mary suggested.

"Bake in the preheated oven for about 20-25 mins, or until it's springy to the touch," Natasha read aloud, wiping her chocolate-y fingers on a dish towel. "Don't we have to leave in 15 minutes?"

"Uh…" That's a very good point. "I could always slow-cook it?" she suggested.

"You mean like you would slow-cook a turkey overnight for Christmas?"

"Yeah, but it would be, like… fast. So it would happen over 20-25 minutes instead of 12 hours."

"Or," Natasha started, stepping forward to brush something off Alaina's nose, "we could bake it when we get back." She showed the white powder on her thumb. "Did you eat the caster sugar?"

"Uh, first of all, that's not caster sugar," Alaina defended.

"Oh, really?"

"Yup."

"Then what is it?"

"… Cocaine."

Natasha shook her head with a quiet laugh, eyes crinkling as she looked to the side. Al felt herself smile, too. "And what was your second of all?"

"Yeah, what do you mean by 'when we get back'?" she asked with a furrow between her brows. "I mean, I'm sure it'd be fine for a few hours, but waiting a week or however long before you come back here is pretty ridiculous, and I don't think Mary Berry would approve—"

"Alaina," Natasha cut off, laughing a little. "I mean we can come back here after whatever you're planning and finish it. I don't mind staying over if you don't."

"Oh-  _Oh_." Al wasn't expecting that. "Well, if you're okay with it…"

"I'm perfectly fine with it."

"Great." Al grinned toothily and closed her laptop, before turning back to Natasha. "You should probably wear a coat, eh, you can just borrow one of mine. Let's—"

"Wait!" Natasha almost yelled, brushing past Alaina. Al watched, startled, as she retrieved the dropped bag she carried in at the start from the floor and handed it to her, eyes twinkling and full of hope. "I got you a little something."

_Natasha Romanoff just got her a present for their second date, oh my god, was this even happening? Is this a dream? Was she secretly dead?_

Alaina reached into the gift bag and pulled out a bottle of something with pale brown liquid inside and read the label.

"You got me  _Pappy Van Winkle_?" she whispered, staring wide-eyed at the bourbon before focusing back onto Natasha. "Do you know how expensive this stuff is?"

"Well, yeah, since I bought it," she teased and leaned over to rub Al's arm. "Don't sweat it, though. You deserve this."

Alaina bit her lip to hide her smile, and when she thought that she would break out into a watery grin anyway, she brushed past Natasha and put the bottle in her fridge to hide her face. Hopefully, she wouldn't drink it all in one night. She usually has self-control when it comes to drinking, at least more so than Sam. He doesn't know how to hold his alcohol. Even for someone as buff as him.

She'd never say that to his face, though.

Al ran to grab Natasha a coat – one of those long duffel ones – as Natasha put tinfoil over the cake batter to keep it fresh for when they get back. Natasha shrugged on the coat, Al found her own pea coat, she left a short but sweet note for Bucky explaining where she was because he was like a weirdly overprotective mother, and then she locked the door behind her with the spare key.

Natasha led her to the Jeep – the same one from their first date – and moved to go into the driver's seat, but Al stopped her.

"I don't think so," Al sing-songed, grabbing her gloved hand to pull her away from the door. She held up a piece of cloth. "You really think I'd let it go?"

Natasha groaned, tilting her head back with her arms crossed against the wind. "Do we really have to do this?"

"Uh,  _yes_." She held the material up to Natasha's face and put on her best Batman voice, "Close your eyes or face the consequences." Natasha only cocked an eyebrow. "I don't like threatening pretty women, but I will."

"You technically already threatened me." She sighed, and then relented.

Alaina placed the soft material over the assassin's closed eyes and tied it at the back of her head, making sure to keep it loose enough so it wouldn't hurt, but tight enough so it wouldn't shift off.

Like their first date but roles reserved, Al placed a hand on her lower back and held her hand in the other, leading her to the passenger seat of the Jeep. She buckled her seatbelt, booped her nose which earned a laugh from Natasha, and then walked over to the driver's seat, got in, started the engine, and then drove.

It was a short drive, maybe 15 minutes, and it was filled with banter and laughter. She was so used to hanging around with Sam that she kind of forgot what it was like to be friends with other people. Obviously, she had Curt, but she hardly saw him anyway since he lived a bit away and spent most of his time counselling. Now she had people like Clint, Steve and Tony she could call her friend. Although now, she wasn't too sure if Tony even liked her.

Alaina shook herself out of her thoughts, knowing it would put her in a bad mood.

She wanted this to be perfect for Natasha.

She parked the Jeep and repeated the process from last time; shut the engine, got up, walked to the passenger seat, helped Natasha get out of the car, wrapped an arm around her waist and led her to the date.

Natasha was surprisingly vocal about wanting to know where they were going.

_"Are we there yet?"_

_"Is the blindfold really necessary?"_

_"Why keep it on when we're there?"_

_"Please just let me see."_

Al told her that she was very impatient for someone who was trained specifically to be patient, but didn't let up. She didn't take off the blindfold until they were there.

So, the big reveal was that they were at an indoor ice rink.

Al called the owner a few days ago and asked how much it would be to make it completely private, and it was a pretty hefty price but she hoped to god it would be worth it. She told him that it was for a date when he asked, and he actually cared apparently, since the fairy lights strung up around the rink were glowing, switching from colour to colour. The area was completely dark other than the dim lights.

It was atmospheric and romantic. Like watching the sunset on their first date.

Alaina untied the blindfold and removed it from Natasha's eyes, shoving the piece of material in her coat pocket. They were stood close to each other, Al facing Natasha's side to watch the woman's reaction, chewing her lower lip.

Natasha's eyes were slightly wide, mouth agape. She couldn't read what that reaction meant. Was it good or bad?

What if she didn't like ice skating?

Wait, she was Russian. She probably liked the ice, at least. Russia was filled with ice, right?

"Uh," Al stammered for a moment. "If you don't want to do it, that's fine. I don't mind finding a nearby café or something, or we can just head back to mine and finish the cake. Find a movie to put on or something…"

She trailed off when Natasha turned her head, a small smile playing at her lips. Her eyes were gleaming as she stared up at the taller woman.

"What?" Al asked with a crease between her brows.

Without warning, Natasha reached up and kissed Alaina, quickly and almost tentatively, but with a tenderness and passion that filled her body with warmth. Natasha's hand cupped her cheek, fingers twined in her short hair while her other hand rested on her shoulder, squeezing slightly. Comfortingly.

She pulled away after a moment, or maybe it was longer? Al didn't know how long it really lasted, but she knew she didn't want it to end.

"You…" She could only stare with wide eyes and parted lips at the redhead, who broke out in a full grin.

"I love it," Natasha whispered, and placed another kiss on her lips, a short peck that still managed to twist Al's stomach in so many ways. "Whoever gets in last drives us home."

 _Home_.

Alaina smiled.

"You're on, Romanoff."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahshsfsbioafgniuafiubf IT FINALLY HAPPENED AFTER 35 CHAPTERS!!!
> 
> Tell me what you think! Was it gay enough? Cute enough? Do we need more Nalaina? (Yes.)
> 
> Thanks for the awesome comments as always, have a great week:)


	37. Relapse

**_Alaina_ **

"Morning, asshole," Alaina greeted her friend, closing the door behind her with the heel of her foot. "Got you some morning goodness." She set down one of the Styrofoam coffee cups on the side table and took a seat next to the bed, placing her own cup next to Frank's.

When herself and Natasha got back to her house, they baked the cake, ate the entire thing in one sitting while watching horror movies since it was October – neither were scared of horrors unlike Sam and Clint, so they spent the entire time criticising every detail while laughing at how absurd and dramatic they were – and they slept, cuddling on the couch with Al as the big spoon. Natasha seemed to fit perfectly against her body, and it was the first time she had slept properly for a while. The same for the Natasha, too, most likely.

It was a good night. Better than good. Dare she say even better than their first date.

"Not allowed to drink coffee," Frank murmured. She stood when he shifted and helped prop a pillow against the backrest. Holding his shoulder with one hand and waist with the other, she moved him to the head of the bed so he was sat up. "Cheers."

"Think of it as a thank you." Al smiled as she sat back down.

Frank gave a sharp chuckle. "Got nothing to thank me for," he said, voice raspy. He reached over the railing of the bed and grabbed the coffee cup from the table, holding it up to his lips to take a short gulp. "You saved my ass. Should be me doing this shit for you, not the other way 'round."

"I'm why you're here in the first place, Frank," she pointed out with a shrug and tight smile, tapping her fingers against her cup. "Can't deny it. If I just called you back—"

"Don't start with that crap again," Frank grumbled with a shake of the head. "That Stone prick is why I'm here. He's why my family's dead, Ally. I'd never blame that on you, ever."

"They'd still be here if I called back, Frank. I was just too bitter to actually pick up the phone." Every time she visited, they pretty much had the same back and forth.  _'It was my fault'_. 'No, it was mine'. ' _You've got nothing to blame yourself for'_. It was frustrating, but they were both too stubborn to even agree with the other. "I fucked up. That's on me."

"Why the fuck should it be on you?" Frank scoffed, the Styrofoam cup shaking in his grasp. His breathing was coming in heavy. "Bill's the one that killed my fucking family, Ally, not you. He's the one who shot me, he's the reason that I'm in this bullshit hospital bed."

Alaina didn't even know what to say. They talked about what happened, but they never brought up Billy. Rawlins and Stone, yes, but they always skirted around the subject of their friend, both aware that they were doing so. It was still fresh in Al's mind, she couldn't even begin to imagine how Frank was feeling.

"We don't have to talk about this, Frank," Al said quietly. "Your family dying is one thing, but…" She shook her head with a gulp, letting her eyes fall shut, "but knowing that it was Bill, I just… I can't even imagine."

"If it was my choice—"

"You'd kill him, I know," Al finished with a nod. "I know you would."

There was a long stretch of silence after that, with Frank glaring at his cup of coffee and Al watching him carefully.

Eventually, she gave a small smile and produced a pack of cards from her pocket.

"Go Fish," she stated, pulling them out of their pack to shuffle them. "I'm the queen of that game. Let's see if you can beat me after my never-ending streak."

"No one's the queen of Go Fish, Ally." Frank's face lit up in a smile. "But you're on."

* * *

**_Bucky_ **

The dog – Cujo, Alaina called him – wouldn't leave him alone. Every time he entered the house, the tiny dog would trip on his heels, tail wagging with an almost human-like smile on his face.

When Bucky almost stepped on him walking out of the bathroom, he decided to pick him up and let him settle in the crook of his metal arm since he was small enough to fit snugly. The coolness of the metal seemed to settle Cujo, as he immediately fell asleep.

Bucky felt apprehensive helping himself to Al's kitchen, but she was always insistent on him treating this house as his own home, even giving him a spare key. He didn't understand her kindness towards him. Even Steve didn't like the idea of him living with her, he heard him say on the phone one day.

Alaina wasn't pushy either, which he didn't expect. Bucky was prepared for her to constantly ask him when he was ready to talk to Steve, or always reassure him that he would be okay, or hound him about his mental wellbeing, but she wasn't like that. Even when he walked in at 2 in the morning with a stab wound in his side, she didn't treat him differently. She grabbed her medkit and patched him up like it was a habit.

Maybe it was slowly becoming one.

It was still early when Alaina returned from the hospital, around 10 a.m., and Bucky had a dog in one arm and a cup of coffee in his other hand, sat on a kitchen stool as he read the morning paper.

He forced himself to bite back any panic when the door opened, reminding himself that she wasn't a threat.

"Morning, Bucky," Al greeted, unsurprised that he was there. She nodded to the paper. "Anything interesting today?" She shrugged off her coat and hung it up on the rack, toeing off her boots at the same time.

"Just the same stuff. Mostly politics," Bucky answered, running a finger over Cujo's head when he shifted, likely about to wake. "The crossword was pretty fun."

"Ugh," Al groaned with the shake of her head. "I can't believe you just said crosswords are fun. But I forgive you since you refilled the coffee pot." She grabbed a mug from one of the many cupboards –  _No. 1 Mom?_  – and poured herself a cup.

"Didn't you used to card collect?" he pointed out.

"Don't sass me," she muttered, drinking the pure black coffee. She might as well have just drunk it straight from the pot. "Why are you giving me that look? Are you judging my coffee preferences? If you say black coffee is the equivalent of Satan's piss, I'm literally kicking you out."

"I won't say it, but now you know." Bucky shook his head with something akin to a grimace on his face. "It's disgusting."

"Oh, really?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow. "And how do you like it,  _Mr-I've-Never-Worked-At-A-Coffee-Shop-Before_? Let me guess, weaker than Ryan Gosling's jawline?"

Bucky frowned. "Ryan Gosling?"

"A celebrity with a weak jawline." She waved it off and reached over to pat Cujo on the head. He huffed and opened his eyes tiredly for a moment before they fluttered back shut. "Cujo really likes you."

"He's a cute dog."

"Did you have one back in the day?" Al asked, settling on the stool opposite Bucky, on the other side of the counter.

That was another thing about Alaina. If she asked him a question about his past, she didn't do it with otherworldly intent, but real curiosity.

"I think when I was a kid, before my mom died," he said, unsure. His memory was getting better. He remembered much more than he did a few months ago, from his time with Steve to his family. He guessed it was to do with him actually having somewhere to live now, so he had more time alone with his head. Some things were still spotty, but he was getting there.

"Is Steve's journal helping?" she questioned.

Bucky shrugged a shoulder. "Yeah, I guess. I remember stuff with me and him, but…" He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Hey." Al wrapped a hand around his wrist and rubbed her thumb over the exposed skin of his flesh hand. "Stress causes a rise in blood pressure. Don't want another headache, do we?"

Bucky gulped, lowered his head and muttered a quiet, "Thank you."

Alaina gave him a gentle smile and released her hold, just as her phone started ringing.

She sighed to herself and picked up the device, holding it to her ear. "Hello?"

" _Alaina? Oh, thank god_ ," a man breathed on the other end, relieved. It was Steve, Bucky realised. His super-hearing helped him hear the conversation on both sides. " _Something's wrong with Tony and everyone's out right now, Jarvis said that he's going through relapse? I'd call Sam, but-_ "

"He's visiting his sister, I know," Al murmured, standing from her seat. "I'm on my way. Make sure Jarvis keeps you updated and call me if anything happens. I'll be there in 10." She ended the call without another word and turned to Bucky. "I'm so sorry, I'll be back soon, I promise."

"Don't worry about it," Bucky reassured with a smile. "Stress causes a rise in blood pressure, remember?"

Alaina chuckled. "I'll be back in a few hours. Don't set my house on fire!"

She threw on her coat, tied her shoes, and then she was gone.

* * *

Alaina

Alaina walked in exactly 9 minutes after leaving to find Tony passed out on his bed above the sheets, his skin glistening with sweat, dark hair sticking to his forehead and eyes pressed shut, facing the ceiling. Steve was kneeling next to him on the covers, breaths coming in shaky as he pressed a wet cloth against his forehead.

"I can't thank you enough for this," Steve exhaled when he saw her standing in the doorway.

Al took off her jacket and made her way over to the unconscious man, batting Steve's hand away to check his temperature. Aside from the cold moisture from the cloth, Tony was burning up hot. "How long has he been like this?" she asked, tilting the man's head so his head lolled to the side. Didn't want the genius billionaire to choke to death on his own vomit, after all.

"About thirty minutes, I think," Steve answered. His voice was shaky, bordering on panicked. "I-I tried asking Jarvis for help, but Tony turned off his protocol before he passed out. He can only tell us what's happening if he's in critical condition."

"Great," Al muttered, wiping a hand over her tired eyes. Why was it always the day after a date when bad shit happened? "Okay, get as many washcloths as you can and soak them in cold water, as freezing as you can get it."

Steve nodded and wordlessly paced to the bathroom.

Al held the back of her hand over the unconscious man's mouth and felt that his breathing was slow, but it wasn't faltering. She pressed two fingers against his throat and his heartbeat was fairly steady for his condition, so that was one less thing they had to worry about.

Steve wandered back in carrying about a dozen damp washcloths, throwing them down on the bed and leaving a wide wet patch next to Alaina's thigh.

She got to work right away, removing Tony's shirt, pants and socks with Steve's help and placed the towels over various parts of his body. One under each armpit, over his forehead, on the sides of his neck, and over his ankles.

"What do we do now?" Steve asked, hands hovering unsurely over Tony's body. "Do we wake him?"

"Gotta wait it out," Al said, giving a short reassuring smile to the super soldier as she slumped on the bed. She guessed that he hadn't seen him like this first-hand before. "Like if someone has a seizure, you can't strap them down and stop it from happening. Have to let it play out and hope for the best." His throat bobbed and he moved his hands away, worry written all over his face. "You've never seen him relapse?"

"No," he almost whispered, shaking his head. "Pepper was always here to help him through all...  _that_. I don't think he's tried giving up drinking for years. Not until..." Steve eyed Al with sad eyes. "He feels guilty about what happened. To you."

Alaina nodded, watching the blonde man carefully as he stared down at his friend. When she was kidnapped, he meant. When Frank... Al shook her head. No, she had to focus on Tony right now. Not herself.

"If, uh, this happens again," Al started after a few moments of heavy silence, "I should probably tell you what to do." Steve's eyes flickered to her, eyebrows drawn down, before going back to Tony. "First, you put him somewhere that's familiar with him, which you did. If he woke up somewhere he didn't recognise, especially with his anxiety and probably PTSD, it could lead to a panic attack. Secondly, you, uh, get the washcloths, soak them cold, and put them over the hotspots of the body, like his armpits, on his neck, forehead, without it being too heavy."

"And the feet?" Steve asked.

"The feet are like the radiator of the body," she explained. "Before the serum, you ever notice how quickly you got warm when you put on socks?" Steve nodded with a frown. "Yeah. It's weird, but it works. It should cool him down pretty quickly. Do you, uh... Are you okay, Steve?"

"Huh?" Steve looked up, seemingly surprised by her question towards him. "Yeah, yeah, I just... I always had to deal with him drunk, you know? At 4 in the morning when he couldn't sleep, he just drank, and I had to carry him to his room. Sometimes I'd throw him in a cold shower and wait for him to wake up, but he was so out of it that he didn't even twitch. I always had to deal with that... not this."

"It's not easy."

"No." The blonde shook his head. "He always beats himself up about stuff he has no control over, and... Especially when someone he cares about is hurt. When Pepper almost died, after Ultron, he blamed himself. Still does."

"That's the superhero shtick, isn't it?" Al chuckled lightly. "You always find a way to blame yourselves. I…" She let out a sigh through her nose, chewing the inside of her cheek. "I just want to apologise, Steve. I know I blamed you for what happened to Sam and I shouldn't have done that. It wasn't fair to you."

"But it was my—"

"No," Al cut him off sharply. "I don't want to hear it. Sam got himself in that situation. You didn't force him to do anything and you weren't the one that put him in a coma. It wasn't you, it wasn't Bucky, it wasn't Natasha, it was Sam. I just needed to find someone else to blame after I fractured his nose."

"You… broke his nose?"

"I was having a bad day," she explained. "But seriously, Steve. I think of you as a friend now. All that is behind us. Okay?"

Steve gave a smile. It was a tight smile, but still, it was better than that frown he had before. "Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the wonderfully supportive comments, as always! I wasn't expecting this story to get so much traction but I'm so glad it did. Hope you enjoyed this chapter:)


	38. This Is Halloween

**_Natasha_ **

"I can't believe you're making me do this," Natasha muttered under her breath as Alaina adjusted the leaves in her hair, a too-bright and too-proud grin on the woman's face.

"I  _can_  believe it because we're going to be the best dressed there!" Alaina exclaimed, maybe a bit more excited than she should be. Natasha wasn't a huge Halloween fan, but watching Alaina's pure joy as she rambled on about her previous costumes – she'd be lying if she said she didn't want to see the female Khal Drogo costume, for research purposes of course, not because Alaina would've looked super-hot – and even recited the classic Sam going as a nun story. "I was gonna go as Wonder Woman, but she doesn't have any potential lesbian lovers, so I'm yeeting that one in the trash."

"Yeeting is a verb now?" Natasha asked.

"Absolutely," Alaina said, and then stepped back. "You're all done and looking mighty fine if I do say so myself. I might be a tad bias, though."

Natasha rolled her eyes and stood up from her place on the bed, stepping in front of her girlfriend –  _her girlfriend_  – to get a good look at herself in the mirror.

And she was right. Natasha looked good.

She was wearing a floor-length green dress with a slit up the leg that reached her thigh, vines wrapping around the silk to cover her shoulders, some stragglers crawling up her neck. Her red hair was its usual wavy self with green leaves stuck in various places and blood red lips, green eyeshadow taking up her entire eyelids and underneath her eyes.

Yes, she was dressed as Poison Ivy.

And Alaina looked even better, dressed as Harley Quinn in her iconic half-black half-red jester outfit, face painted white with the black eye mask on. Natasha would've preferred if she was dressed as the Margot Robbie Harley Quinn, but she wasn't complaining either way. The latex fit her body perfectly.

Alaina came up behind Natasha and wrapped her arms around her waist, resting her chin on the shorter woman's shoulder as she examined them together. "I'm pretty sure Ivy is the taller one in the comics," she whispered, pressing a short kiss to Natasha's cheek.

"Nerd," the redhead chuckled, craning her head to catch Alaina's lips in hers.

"Nuh, uh, uh." She backed away, holding up a finger. "We're not smudging your makeup. We're both technically wearing the same coloured lipstick but if any of it gets on my white paint, I will break up with you."

Natasha rolled her eyes and backed away, the smile that was ever-present on her lips when Alaina was around widening. "Fine, but don't get all clingy with me later on, hun."

"Sure thing, cakes."

Natasha almost did a double-take. "Cakes?" she repeated, her lip twitching.

"Well, uh, couples need nicknames for each other, right?" Alaina asked, suddenly looking abashed. "Cakes is better than hun. That's the most basic-ass name you could've come up with."

"How about… blossom butt?"

"Okay, you answered that way too quickly for it to be from the top of your head," Alaina said, a grin spreading across her face. "Have you been thinking about my blossom butt, Miss Romanoff?"

"Well, there's nothing there…"

"Firstly, you know that's not true, asshole," Alaina argued, though she wasn't serious. "Secondly, think of something better. Cakes really takes the, uh…  _cake_ , right?" She squeezed her arms tighter around Natasha's waist, earning a head shake and a silent laugh from the woman. She'd never laugh out loud at her terrible jokes.

"I'm purposely choosing to ignore that," Natasha stated. The woman pouted against her cheek. "I like Pookie, though. It's sweet."

"Pookie it is, then."

* * *

**_Alaina_ **

Natasha and Alaina made their way to the communal area not too long after their very important and lengthy conversation about nicknames and why some of them were so gross – unless it was coming from Sam, 'babe' always made her cringe, and for Natasha, it was 'sweetheart'. Al quite liked sweetheart but decided not to comment on it. She preferred Pookie, anyway.

Al was surprised to see Tony so chipper after spending the entire night with him laid in bed, sleeping off the relapse. Steve refused to budge an inch until Al demanded him to get the hell out and eat something of sustenance before she actually shoved him through a wall. It seemed to work as Steve came back with a full cooked English breakfast for the both of them.

Tony woke once very briefly and wearily to throw up all over himself and Al, only just missing Steve, before he passed out again. Steve was very apologetic and somehow embarrassed on behalf of the billionaire, but Alaina assured him that it was fine, that she'd seen limbs been blown off from bodies and people literally explode.

She cleaned herself up and realised that it was past midnight, and she'd been in The Tower for well over 12 hours with Steve. The super soldier noticed her tiredness and gently nudged her to go home and rest. When she refused, Jarvis assured her that Pepper Potts was on her way and would sort everything else out.

Now, Tony was sat on the overly-large living room sofa with Pepper on one side and Rhodey on the other, wearing a bowler cap with a waistcoat and long coat, looking very Victorian while it looked like Rhodey and Pepper didn't dress up at all.

Wanda was sat with Vision on one of the love seats, Wanda wearing a gorgeous red dress that Alaina immediately recognised to be Vivian's from Pretty Woman, so she assumed that Vision was Edward, with the black suit and bowtie.

Thor was speaking loudly with Wanda and Vision, wearing a dirty tank top, loose pants and his hair was curled, messy. She didn't have a clue who he was supposed to be.

Bruce was sat on the table talking with Pepper, Rhodey and Tony, wearing an adorable Ghostbusters costume, Steve stood by wearing a… Al had to suppress a snort.

Steve was dressed as Mr Incredible.

Clint and Sam were missing from the group which was never a good thing. They were probably causing havoc somewhere in the Tower.

Tony accidentally did a cough-sort into his drink – it was orange juice, Alaina noted, proud – when he saw Alaina and Natasha approaching the team.

"This is my wet dream come true," he whispered.

"Tony!" Pepper exclaimed, slapping him on the arm with a disapproving expression. She turned back to Natasha and Al with an exasperated sigh. "I'm so sorry about him. It's good to finally meet you, Miss Gunley. I've heard a lot about you."

Yeah, threatening Tony's enemy, getting kidnapped, yadda yadda, Al decided not to say. Instead, she settled with a simple, "You, too," before everyone else gathered around to greet them. She pushed down the ridiculous pang of jealously she felt when Pepper and Natasha embraced, smiling warmly at each other when they separated and focused on the people around her.

Alaina complimented Wanda on her dress – the woman replied with 'I like the colour' as she gazed fondly at Vision – and for a few good minutes, it was her favourite costume because it was so simple and yet so stunning.

Tony was Sherlock – go figure – and Thor was Bodhi from Point Break. Al didn't realise how similar they were until it was pointed out, and Pepper said that her costume was ' _a frustrated CEO of a billion-dollar industry_ ', while Rhodey said that ' _I'm me, bitch_ '.

And then, of course, Sam and Clint had to make an entrance.

Clint was dressed as a fountain which was weird, definitely, but it was Clint, so it didn't really surprise her. She honestly expected weirder from him.

But Sam…

Sam was dressed as Diana Ross. Not a cheaply done Diana Ross or a mock-version of her, but an actual brilliant costume that he managed to pull off so damn well.

He had the gigantic wig, the makeup, the shaved face, but that wasn't it, oh no, my friend.

He wore a full-bodied sequin dress, his waist clearly corseted to look smaller and his chest accentuated to look like actual boobs through makeup – she didn't need that image of Clint putting makeup on Sam's chest, she really didn't – and he even had a flower in his hair.

Sam smirked at everyone's reaction and flipped his afro wig over his shoulder, Clint looking like an upset toddler next to the man in the cheap-looking fountain costume.

"You look gorgeous, Samuel!" Thor was the first to comment, grinning broadly.

"How the hell…?!" Tony stared, mouth agape.

"Any lady would kill for a waist like that," Natasha commented slyly.

"What even are you man?" Rhodey shook his head.

"I am so glad you're my best friend, Sammy," Al stated, shaking her head as she pulled the man into a hug.

"I need a drink," Sam whispered so no one could hear. "It feels like if I cough, I'll either throw up or shit myself."

Alaina laughed and helped him move to sit down comfortably.

Then the night began.

* * *

"He knew how much I loved snakes," Thor said with a bright smile. "Loki is a devious man but he is great company. I think you two would get along very well!"

"I, uh, I'm not too sure about that, Thor." The god looked crestfallen. "No, no, no, I didn't mean like that, I'm sure he's great if you approve of him. But he kind of, um… tried destroying my planet."

"He has changed his opinions about humans since getting to know the team," Thor said in a promise. "He respects soldiers and people who fight for what they believe in."

"I mostly just followed orders from my boss," Al said with a shrug. "I fought for what he believed in, not really what I did."

"But alas, you are a brave warrior!" Thor stated like it was fact. It reminded her of how they first met when she kicked him in the nuts.  _It is an honour to meet another brave soldier like yourself_ , he said to her. "I've heard stories of your refusal to abandon fallen comrades. Of yours and Samuel's friend, Riley. I know many men with strength ten times yours that would have left him if it meant saving themselves. You stuck with him to the end, Lady Gunley." He smiled and patted her on the shoulder, a warm gesture. "That takes courage."

Al ignored the way her smile faltered, ignored how her breath stuttered and how her heart began beating in her chest, hands trembling, palms clammy, going cold all over.

Thor only meant well.

She swallowed down the feelings and asked more about Loki.

The god looked pleased to be asked about his brother, and continued talking.

* * *

"Wait, wait, wait," Alaina held up a finger, "you're telling me that you and Tony met after you  _slept together?_ "

Rhodey gave a side shrug. "Trust me, I didn't expect him to become my life-long buddy, but here we are. You'll never know what it'll lead to, Gunley." He winked, sending a glance in Natasha's direction, where she was speaking to Pepper.

"We're already dating, smartass," she reminded him.

"But have you fucked yet?"

"Boy, you listen right here—"

* * *

"I just—" Pepper cut herself off, shaking her head as tears lined her eyes, an empty wine glass in her perfectly manicured hand. "I just love him so much, you know?" Al nodded with sympathy in her eyes, eyebrows drawn together as she listened intently. "I know a lot of people don't because he can be arrogant, hard-headed and a huge idiot, but why can't they look past that? Why can't they see the man that I see instead of comparing him to his team?"

"I know." Al gave a small sad smile in response. "Aragorn was always my personal favourite, but Gimli was a close second. Everyone thinks Legolas is all high and mighty because he's beautiful and graceful, but why not go for the shorter guy for once, right? If they just dug through those layers of stubbornness and gruffness, they might find something amazing in Gimli."

"Gimli was the ninth person to be listed on the cast, Alaina," Pepper said, her voice cracking. "The  _ninth_. He was the main character, for goodness sake!"

* * *

After a half hour of conversing with Pepper about Lord of the Rings in great depth and detail, Al looked around the living area. Steve and Tony were talking quietly at the bar, looking like they were talking about something serious – she caught the occasional glance towards her, so she had a good guess – while Natasha, Clint, Wanda and Vision were listening intently to another one of Thor's boisterous stories.

Sam was missing, though, his empty drink set on the bar where he was previously sat.

Alaina caught Rhodey's attention and nodded her head knowingly at the drunk Pepper, who was rambling aimlessly about how The Hobbit didn't even compare to the original (Al agreed). Rhodey tapped Bruce on the shoulder and they turned to walk towards them.

Pepper didn't even notice that Al had left, turning her sights on the two men to continue the discussion as if they were there the whole time.

She found Sam on the balcony, leaning against the railing as he stared out into the street-lit night. He was sans his costume since the corset was either going to make him throw up or shit – his words, not hers – so he was wearing a pair of sweats with a plain white tee, and the pair of burger slippers that Al got him years ago. They were worn to hell and had scuffs around the edges, especially on the feet, but he apparently still liked wearing them.

Al had taken off the hat part of her jester outfit and threw one of Natasha's hoodies over the latex, deeming it warmer and way more comfortable. She scrubbed off the face paint, too, after it started irritating her skin.

"What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" she teased, stepping forward to prop a hip against the railing, facing him. She could scarcely hear the conversation going on inside, but barely.

Sam turned his head to acknowledge her, his eyes a little out of it. He'd been drinking quite a bit, but at least he didn't challenge Steve to a drinking contest this time.

"Could ask you the same thing," he muttered and turned back to stare down into the streets. He didn't even smile.

"Sammy?" she asked quietly, all traces of teasing gone. "What's on your mind?"

He shrugged a shoulder, fingers twitching against the barrier.

"How's Sarah?" Al settled for instead, remembering that he went to Oregon to visit his sister recently.

"She's good," he answered. "You should see the kids, Al. They've grown so damn much since you last saw them." He shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "I swear they remind me of you, somehow. Said they wanted to be a spy like you."

Al's chest tightened, and she let out a hoarse chuckle. "Yeah. Like hell I'd let them."

They were quiet for several moments, and Alaina considered going back inside since Sam obviously wasn't in the mood to talk, but before she could, he spoke up.

"Ross interviewed a mutant the other day," he said, "one of the ones from Stone's compound."

Al's eyes darted to his, but he avoided her gaze. Was he talking about Leon?

"She said that she could show people's, uh… Show their worst nightmares," Sam continued. Al didn't know if she was more relieved or less relieved that it wasn't Leon, but still, there was that panic clinging to her chest. "What did she show you?"

Al's throat bobbed and her hands reached up to grasp the railing, needing something to hold her up. Sam offered no comfort. He only stood staring at her, waiting.

"Riley," she answered, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat. "I saw Riley. Saw his body. Again. And everyone that led up to it." She swallowed and looked away, looking out into the horizon. "I-I saw you, too. You were dead. You… You killed yourself. Had a razor in your hand and your wrists were all cut up. Thought I woke up from the dream and you were there, helped me get out of the room, but it wasn't you. You pulled a gun on me and said stuff…" She shrugged. "That you replaced me with Steve. You wanted me to kill you, but I couldn't. I didn't. I shot myself and woke up." Al turned her gaze back to Sam, who was regarding her with a… an expression she couldn't read. Since when couldn't she read Sam?

"I… I'm sorry, Al."

Alaina almost laughed. "You've got nothing to be sorry for, Sammy."

"No, I…" His eyes were filled with sadness. "You think I replaced you with Steve? Why… Did I do something?"

She knew that Sam was drunk, but the broken look in his expression hurt her. It pulled at her gut and made her eyes sting.

"I'd never think that. I've known you all my life. I know you wouldn't even try something like that with me. I'd kick your ass if you did."

Sam frowned with a pout, looking too much like a child

"C'mon." Al smiled softly, nudging his arm gently. "Let's get you to sleep."

Her friend nodded tiredly and followed her inside.

Steve walked in a few hours to find Sam sleeping with his head on Al's stomach, an arm wrapped around her waist and a leg slung over her calf.

"Is he okay?" Steve mouthed.

She nodded, and the super soldier left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk if this is good tbh.


	39. I Get Knocked Down

**_Natasha_ **

The next morning, Natasha was sat in the communal kitchen alone, wearing an oversized shirt with her hair in an unkempt bun on top of her head, slowly stirring her coffee but not yet drinking it. Despite being unable to sleep, she wasn't tired.

Since their ice rink date, Natasha has spent almost every night with Alaina in her house. If they weren't watching movies with a tub of ice cream and spoon each, then they were following recipes online – they always argued over Mary Berry and Jamie Oliver, so they reasoned to alternate the chefs.

In the Tower, Natasha didn't get good sleep. She was thankful for Tony giving her a safe place to live even after she double-crossed him and stabbed him in the neck with a needle without his permission, even if it was to save him, she still felt awful about that move. He gave her the funding to decorate her floor however she wanted, and she did. It was minimalistic compared to the others, second to maybe Bruce's, but it was homeliest she's ever felt.

Until Alaina's kidnapping, of course.

It wasn't that Natasha felt anxious or anything of the sort. She didn't, it was just difficult for her to sleep, knowing that Alaina was sleeping in a house alone. Tony set up security around the area and has Jarvis monitoring her, but the only thing that made Natasha feel at ease was knowing that Barnes was there with her. Weirdly, she trusted the ex-Hydra agent with her girlfriend.

But at Alaina's, she slept like a baby.

Natasha was broken from her thoughts when Steve stepped through the elevator, back from his morning run judging by his ruffled hair and workout clothes.

"Morning, Nat," he greeted with a short smile, walking into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

"No Sam?" she asked.

Steve shook his head as he filled half a glass with tap water. "No. Hungover." He took a seat on one of the stools across from Natasha. "Any plans for today?"

"Aside from looking after Clint to make sure he doesn't further break his arm, no," Natasha answered with a small shrug. Steve nodded with a hum, darting his eyes away from hers. "How about you, slugger?"

"Uh, Bucky contacted me," he confessed, tapping his fingers against the side of his glass. "Sent me a letter saying that he wanted to meet me and talk about stuff. I…" He looked back at her unsurely. "Do you think I should?"

"I say go for it," she said, and she really meant it. She didn't think Barnes would be ready for it whatsoever and guessed that he felt like he should for Steve's sake, but maybe it would make Steve realise he wasn't dealing with the same man he knew, no matter how much he wanted to believe it. If Tony found out, though… Natasha didn't even want to think about it. It would be ugly, to say the least. "I'm sure Alaina would let you meet in her house if you asked.

"Yeah," he huffed with a closed-lipped smile like he was sharing an inside joke with himself. "So, um, about Al," he continued, "I've been thinking that we should start training her. You know, like an Avenger. I know she was in Cerebus, but I think we'd all feel better knowing that she can defend herself properly. Especially Sam."

"That's a good idea." Natasha nodded, humming in agreement, still absentmindedly stirring her coffee. "I think Tony's working on something for her, anyway. Some kind of protective armour that he wants to use for his new suit designs. Teaching her how to fight will help, too."

Like they were listening all along, the elevator doors opened, and Alaina stepped out with Clint, Sam and Thor in tow. Sam and Clint were grumbling at one another, looking very hungover, as Thor and Alaina were talking, their hands animatedly moving as they discussed something.

Clint pushed past everyone and immediately got a hold of the coffee pot. He picked it up with both hands and started drinking it black, almost downing the entire thing in one go.

Alaina ceased her conversation with Thor, staring at the archer with offended eyes. "First of all, how dare you." She moved forward and slapped him upside the head, earning a loud groan from Clint, as well as a thud when he dramatically hit his head against the counter. "Sit down. I'll refill the pot, asshole."

"Please, Miss Gunley, allow me," Jarvis spoke.

"Damn," Alaina murmured to herself, pleasantly surprised when the pot was refilled and began heating up. She turned her sights on Natasha, then, and moved behind her to wrap her arms over her shoulders, holding her hands in her own. "Mornin', Cakes," she whispered, her voice husky from sleep. "Good night?"

"Not without you, Pookie," Natasha replied with a smile, half-joking and half-serious. Alaina smiled brightly, teasingly, pressed a kiss to Natasha's nose and then a softer one to her lips.

Sam made a gagging noise and Clint let out a groan of disgust.

"Do not be bitter, Samuel and Clint, because you do not have someone to go home to at night," Thor announced, as loud as ever.

"You hear that?" Alaina grinned into Natasha's shoulder. "You're all just jealous. Thor said so."

"You're all just gay," Clint muttered, setting a full mug of coffee in front of Alaina. She gave a small smile as a thank you and released Natasha, instead sitting next to her on a stool.

"Alaina?" Steve asked politely as she gulped down the burning hot drink, similarly to Clint.

"Sup?"

He shared a glance with Natasha, who nodded reassuringly. "So, we've been thinking…"

* * *

**_Alaina_ **

It was nerve-wracking, to say the least, stood in the gym directly in front of Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, aka the guy who supposedly punched Hitler, to basically fight him.

Okay, she wasn't going to fight him, but he was going to 'teach her self-defence', like she hasn't single-handedly fought her way out of a hostage situation with a dozen terrorists surrounding her while secured by rope to a pillar, but hey, she wasn't going to pass this opportunity.

Not because she wanted to punch Steve, but…

Well, he's Captain America. Who wouldn't want to fight Captain America?

Right?

Right.

Was this going to be fun?

Maybe.

Was she going to lose horribly?

Very possibly.

Was she going to embarrass herself in front of her new girlfriend?

Absolutely.

Sam was being a miserable hungover git this morning, but when he heard Steve's offer to teach her self-defence, he laughed so hard that coffee flew out of his nose and into Clint's drink. Al had to hide her grin from poor Steven Grant Rogers, but she guessed that Natasha probably knew.

Now, stood in the gym wearing a pair of shorts and tank top, barefoot, stood opposite Steve who had on a pair of sweats and a way too tight shirt – she might have a girlfriend now, but denying that Steve was a perfect specimen is basically a criminal offence. Sam was sat on one of the benches between Natasha and Clint with a bowl of breadsticks in his lap, sat forward with his elbows on his knees and an eager grin on his face, more awake than he was 10 minutes ago.

"… You're small, so you can use that to your advantage—"

"Dude, she's, like, 3 inches shorter than you," Clint spoke up, arms crossed over his chest. "She's taller than half the team."

"Is she taller than Stark?" Sam asked.

"Nah, he has an inch on her," Clint answered. "Brucie?"

"Definitely taller than Bruce. And you. And Nat. And Wanda."

"Guys?" Steve cut in, raising an eyebrow in their direction. "We're in the middle of something."

Clint and Sam made the exact same zip-across-the-mouth gesture which was scary in its own right, while Natasha shook her head and sent Al a grin that could only be described as adorable. "Anyway, I—"

"Steve," Alaina gently interrupted him before he could go Mr Lecture again, a small smile across her lips. "I know the basics. I was in the army, remember?"

"Right, sorry. Okay." Steve's cheek flushed red and Al couldn't help but feel kind of proud that she made Captain America blush. He stepped back and adjusted his stance, feet shoulder-width apart, but his shoulders weren't hunched defensively, nor were his hips twisted the right way.

He was trying to throw her off.

Al subtly moved her legs in a similar stance to his but kept her arms crossed, eyeing his movements carefully as he talked some more nonsense about self-defence that anyone and their toddler knew.

His eyes flickered to her hands, back to her face, he shifted ever-so-slightly, and then he moved.

Al blocked the punch coming her way with her forearm and grabbed his wrist before he could pull his punch back, kicking herself forward to place a leg between both of his. She hooked her knee behind his and pushed him forward with the momentum of him falling back, knocking him flat on his back.

Probably due to the shock of being on the floor one moment and the ground the next, Steve didn't even attempt to make a move or protest when she straddled his chest and held his arms down with her knees pressed into the crook of his elbows. There was no doubt that he could literally throw her through the ceiling, so she appreciated him not giving her a broken back.

Damn. She was proud of herself for doing that. How the hell did she even do that?

Al cleared her throat a bit awkwardly and moved off the super soldier, offering a hand to help him up. He accepted it and hauled himself up – was he literally 400 pounds worth of muscle? Who the hell weighed that much? And that was only a portion of his weight.

She turned back to the audience and saw that Sam was chewing on a breadstick with a smug smirk on his face, Clint looked like he was seeing God, and Natasha had a knowing smile on her face, her eyes twinkling and lips spreading wider when she met Alaina's eye.

"What…?" Clint looked utterly lost. His eyes dashed between Steve and Al, and then turned to Natasha and Sam, and then turned back to Steve and Al, before a grin took over his entire face. "You just got knocked on your ass by Miss-3-Inches-Shorter-Than-You. You just got knocked on your ass by Alaina freaking  _Gunley_."

"Damn right," Sam muttered like a proud father. "That's my gal." He clicked his tongue and winked at her.

"God, you're a prick."

"That was good." To Steve's credit, he didn't seem embarrassed. Or maybe he was but he just didn't want to show it? He just looked a little bamboozled. "Caught me off-guard which is an achievement in itself, but there's always room for improvement. I think you'll be more suited to sparring with Clint or Nat to begin with since your styles are similar—"

"I call dibs!" Clint practically yelled, holding up a finger. "I know she's your girlfriend and all but I don't care, I call dibs. I  _so_  want to fight Gunley."

"Did you just say that you want to fight my girlfriend?"

"Uh,  _yes_."

"You can take turns," Steve suggested reasonably. "It's not a competition and we need to stick to our regular training routine. Are we clear?"

Clint grumbled but nodded anyway, probably because of the man's tone of voice.

"Wait, why can't I fight her?" Sam protested.

"Because I passed my physical three months before you," Al answered sweetly. "And I'm the next Captain America, remember?"

"Um, no offence, but I'm a blessing to this Earth."

"Kind of like the blessing that was Noah's Ark," she retorted. "When everything perished while only a few survived."

"The  _best_  few," Sam argued, raising an eyebrow. "And Noah was played by Russell Crowe, so I take that as a compliment."

"But you're not Australian or white. And you can't grow a beard."

"First of all, how  _dare_  you—"

"Are we done?" Steve intercepted, looking too much like a dad. Al smirked at Sam, who glowered at the super soldier and then his best friend. "Great." He sighed, exasperated. "So, let's start."

* * *

It was past lunch when Alaina returned home, her muscles carrying that familiar ache she felt when she first joined the army. It was constant work and it hurt, but it'd be worth it.

And being trained by Hawkeye, Captain America and Black Widow, her girlfriend? Um, yes, please.

She walked through the front door and tossed her keys on the counter, catching sight of a note from Bucky.

I'll be back tomorrow night. Need to think things through.

Hm. She hoped he wasn't getting in shit.

Well, he probably was.

Cujo was barking like crazy in the living room, more of a high-pitched yap in all realness, so she turned the corner from the kitchen to enter, and…

A wizard.

There was a wizard in her living room, trying to calm down the screaming puppy.

There was a wizard in her house trying to calm her dog.

There was no other way to explain it.

His back was to her so she hasn't yet caught his attention.

Thankful for her paranoia about burglars and being kidnapped again, she took the pistol strapped underneath her sofa and pointed it at his chest, cocking it loud enough for him to hear.

He spun around, his red cape ( _cape?_ ) twirling gracefully behind him. On his chest was a glowing stone, a bright green that seemed to illuminate even in the bright light.

"Alaina Gunley," he spoke, his voice rich and smooth, unfazed by the weapon pointed at him.

"Naban, Dean of Iteration," Al mocked in a deep voice. Cujo sent a final "Get the fuck out of my house."

"My name is Doctor Stephen Strange," he told her like it actually meant something, ignoring her demand. "Miss Gunley, you're a danger to yourself and those around you. You need to come with me."

"Firstly, that's the name of my autobiography-" Alaina mentally high-fived herself for smoothly delivering the quip, "- and secondly, just, no. What are you doing in my house, wizard man? Magic: The Gathering is kind of dead and Naban is a pretty unpopular character. Bad choice."

"I'm a friend of Tony Stark's."

Al faltered. "He has friends outside the team?"

Strange paused. "I'm a begrudging friend of Tony Stark's," he corrected. He stepped forward and Al had to fight herself not to step back. She just fought Captain America, she could fight some damn wizard.

"Well, Stephen Strange…" Wait…? "Stephen Strange," she repeated quietly. "Steph-  _Doctor_  Strange. You're Doctor Strange? Wait, you know Wong?" Wong was her favourite ever superhero, even if he technically wasn't a superhero. Well, Falcon would always be her favourite – go team! – but,  _Wong_. "Is he here?"

Strange looked at her… strangely. Well, he looked at her like she had a limb growing out of each eye, and then sighed. "He's not here right now," he answered, and Al hid her disappointment. But…  _Wong_. "Are you more interested in Wong than you are the fact that I just said you're a danger to yourself and everyone else?"

"I've heard much worse," Al told him, lowering her gun to her side. He raised a dark eyebrow and she set it down on the table, clearing her throat. "So, uh… tea?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooooooooooooo boi, death is coming. For me, not the characters. Don't worry.
> 
> What do you think of Stephen joining this story, huh? Huh? Ironstrange, anyone? I ship it but I ship Pepperony more.
> 
> 'Beta' isn't even a word in my dictionary anymore, so yes, this is un-beta'ed and I'm crying on the inside.
> 
> Thanks for all the awesome comments, as always!


	40. What's Up, Doc?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions of past sexual assault in this chapter, but it's very brief and very undescriptive.

**_Tony_ **

His heart was beating erratically as he landed on the ground, almost stumbling on his feet as he ran to the front door and slammed his way through, the blast of the repulsor too loud in his ears. He was thankful for Steve stood close behind him, shield in hand and wearing his Cap uniform.

Natasha and Clint were located around the back with Thor in case the perpetrator tried to run away, while he ordered Vision to make sure that nobody else left the Tower, including Sam who had a knack of running in head-first and getting himself hurt. Wanda was in a location further out to secure the dad to make sure he was safe.

So, Tony was surprised, to say the least. Yes, Tony Stark, Iron Man, billionaire playboy, yadda yadda, was surprised.

Because when Jarvis sent a distress call saying that someone broke into Al's house, Tony panicked. He imagined that it was Stone again, that he found a way to infiltrate her house from the inside of The Raft, but that wasn't the case.

Nope.

Alaina Gunley, ex-Sargent, ex-special forces officer and the first woman to win a Medal of Honour in over a century, was drinking tea with Stephen Strange in her kitchen, with Cujo sat in the doctor's lap.

Stephen fucking Strange.

Al's wide eyes darted between Steve's partly-covered face and Tony's outstretched gauntlet, all while Strange – the bastard – sipped on his tea like he knew everything that was about to happen.

Tony flipped down his faceplate, no doubt that he was bright red with pure anger. "What the fuck are you doing here, Strange?" he barked out. Steve sighed a breath – of relief or frustration, who knew? – and lowered his shield, holding his arm slightly in front of Tony's armour to stop him from advancing.

"I thought you were friends?" Al whispered to Strange.

"Begrudgingly," he whispered back. Since when were Al and Strange buddies?

"I, uh," Al set down her cup and stood up, smoothing down the front of her leggings, "I'm sorry. But what are you doing here?"

"Jarvis sent a distress call," Steve answered. "We fought the worst. Sorry for barging in, but, um…"

"What do you mean Jarvis sent a distress call?" Al asked. Tony paled. "This house is private. There are only alarms for forced entry."

Steve did a double-take towards Tony and narrowed his eyes when the man looked down guiltily. "You didn't tell her?"

"Tell me what?" she demanded, stepping forward with her arms folded over her chest.

Steve sighed when Tony silently refused to answer, his lip twitching downwards as he gulped. The anxiety was wearing off, but his breathing was still coming in a little heavy and he could feel his heart in his chest, weighing down like an anchor.

"Tony…" Steve muttered.

"Do you mind giving us a minute?" she asked. Tony genuinely couldn't tell if she was pissed or upset, either due to the fact he was too distracted his heart pounding against his ears or that she was a woman of war who knew how to hide her emotions. "Steve and, well, Stephen?"

"Of course." Strange nodded politely and set down the cup of tea. "Thank you for the beverage."

Steve hesitated for a moment, glancing back and forth between Al and Tony before reluctantly walking into the kitchen, shutting the door behind him. Cujo bounced after the Steve's, his tail wagging obliviously. Leaving them alone.

Oh, god.

Oh god.

 _Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god_ …

"You're wearing clothes underneath that, right?" was the first thing she said.

Tony almost laughed but stopped himself in time, earning a small curl of the lip instead. "Of course," he answered breezily, the steadiness of his voice conflicting his emotions. "Imagine the chafing."

"Good to imagine." Al rolled her eyes with a small smile and sat back down on the sofa, gesturing with her head for him to sit down on the plush seat opposite her. "Take it off and sit down." She apparently noticed Tony's hesitation, which wasn't much of a surprise. After only meeting him once, she noticed his discomfort talking with Stone. Well, and the fact she specialises in body language and behavioural studies helps. "There's no threat here, Tony. Excluding me if you don't take a damn seat." It was said as a joke, but Tony heard the seriousness in her tone.

So, he let the armour warp off his body and stepped outside of it, leaving him in slacks and an oil-stained black tee from the workshop. He felt oddly vulnerable around Al. The first thing that came to mind when he thought that was his relapse. He saw the footage. He saw how she stayed at the Tower for hours to take care of him and make sure he was okay until Pepper got there.

Jesus. The idea of Pepper, Natasha and Al giving him ' _the glare'_  at the same time was a frightening thing to think about. Or maybe hot?

He took a seat and finally met her eye. There was no resentment or anger in them, only curiosity. Maybe a bit of sadness.

"You set Jarvis up in my house when I was sorting out legal shit with Stone's company, didn't you?" she asked. Tony nodded, lips pressed together. "Why are you acting like I'm about to beat your ass? I get why you did it, Tony, and I'm not pissed. At all. It's actually… I don't know. I guess it's kinda relieving?"

A crease appeared between the billionaire's eyebrows at that, but he didn't intercept.

"In the army, I was constantly on watch, more so than the men," she continued, clasping her hands with her elbows resting on her knees. "I always had to prove myself more than the straight white dudes, you know? Yeah, I guess you'd get it, too, being not 100% straight. They didn't watch me to make sure I was safe in a group of men, though. Last time I saw him, Rawlins said that he kept me under his watchful eye in case I decided to fuck every man in that tent. He didn't care about the sexual assault." Sexual assault? It apparently showed on Tony's face when Al gave him a gloomy smile. "Yeah, when guys are away from their wives and kids for months, they tend to act on their feelings. Jacking off in the shower only does it for so long."

"They touched you?" Tony's wave of guilt was abruptly replaced by an urge of protectiveness and anger.

"I wasn't raped," Al confirmed, but Tony didn't feel at all reassured. "If I was caught alone in the shower or pissing or outside smoking or just working out in the training area when I couldn't sleep, I'd sometimes be followed. They'd try something but I was always a better fighter. It was before Cerebus. Everyone in my squad knew not to fuck with me."

Tony had to genuinely take a minute to think of a response that didn't involve getting back into his suit and shooting someone.

"That wasn't in your file," he decided on.

"Because I didn't report it." She shrugged like it was nothing. "Don't look surprised, Tony. Yeah, you're not fully straight, but you're rich and white. You can get anything you want, really. At least legally. A half-broke half-black girl from Hawaii with no evidence and no money?" She chuckled. "Yeah, that'd go down well with my Commanders."

"Does Sam know?"

"Took me a while to tell him, but yeah. He knows." Tony could only imagine how that would have gone down.

Al cleared her throat and unclasped her hands. "Anyway, went a bit monologue for a second. Point is, I trust you, Tony. Jarvis staying here is fine, but… maybe warn me next time? If you want to implement an A.I. in my house. Or if you're going to break my house."

"Yeah. Sorry." Tony winced. He did just blast her door open, huh? "I'll send someone over to fix it."

"I appreciate it." Al smiled softly. Did anything faze this woman? "I'm gonna visit Frank today, anyway. Might stay overnight, so you don't have to rush."

Right, Castle. Jarvis was monitoring his vitals and he was making a pretty hefty recovery from being shot in the chest just a few weeks ago. He guessed stubbornness ran in Cerebus, somehow.

"Right." Tony stood up and walked over to his suit, but stopped before he could step inside. "Out of pure curiosity and nothing else, what did Strange want with you?"

"Um," Al looked abashed, "I… don't actually know. We were talking about Wong."

Wong?

" _Wong?_ " he questioned. "A wizard breaks into your house and you ask about his best friend, Gunley? Really?"

"Wong's underrated." She shrugged. "But he said that I'm a danger to myself and those around me, so I'm guessing it's not a good thing. I mean, I've been told much worse but it's still not nice to hear, you know?"

" _A danger to—?_  Okay," Tony sighed, "call him back in here. We're getting this over with."

If Strange was getting involved, well, that was never good.

* * *

**_Alaina_ **

Okay.

So, the situation wasn't great.

The Avengers were all crowded in Alaina's living room, the majority giving Stephen Strange death glares. The only ones that didn't seem to hate the doctor was Steve and Natasha. And herself, of course. Even Clint didn't seem too happy to see the man, and he generally liked everyone.

Al was sat between Sam and Natasha on her couch, with Clint settled on the armrest on Natasha's side. Natasha had her arm around Al's waist, hand resting on her hip and thumb comfortingly rubbing over the material of her pants. It made her feel at ease, sat between them. Even if Sam was in his current 'quiet mood', she felt safe.

"Leon was lying to you, Miss Gunley," were Stephen's first words by the time everyone settled. "You're not a mutant, nor will you ever become one."

Uhhhhh…

_What?_

"How do you know about that?"

"Who the hell is Leon?" Tony asked. They already knew about the whole 'might be a mutant' thing, but not about Leon. She never even mentioned him to Sam.

"One of the mutants from Stone's compound," she answered, keeping her eyes focused on Stephen. His expression revealed nothing. His eyes were just blank, a bit of a challenging glint within them, somewhere, deep down. "Have you been spying on me?"

"Spying is a very broad term."

"I'm not here to take shit from you," Alaina bit. Natasha's hand squeezed her hip to calm her. She had to force herself to untense. "What else do you know?"

"Thing I don't think you want your friends to hear," he said, still staring at her, unyielding.

"Yeah, and the last time I hid stuff from them, I was kidnapped," she retorted. "Why else would Stone want to kidnap me, then? It wasn't to piss off The Avengers, I know that much."

"We're going off-topic," Steve cut in.

"Off-topic?" Al repeated in a half-laugh, looking around the room. Tony had his arms crossed with the glare still directed at Stephen, Steve looked very Captain America with his hands on his hips, and Clint wasn't even looking at her. "Am I missing something here? Why is no one else freaked out by the fact he's been listening in on me?"

"Spells," Tony stated. "You used a spell, didn't you?"

 _Spell?_  He was actually a wizard?

Man, she was just joking.

Also,  _he used a spell on her?_

When Stephen gave a simple nod, Alaina was just about ready to feel her brain leave her head and fling itself against the wall.

"You used a spell on me?" she asked with raised eyebrows, eyes darting between Tony and Stephen before settling on the latter. "You used a fucking spell on me?"

"Precisely."

Al could now see why the majority of the team weren't big fans of the doctor.

"It was a simple memory tracker," Stephen continued to explain. "I only saw moments from your experience at the compound as you entered the house. Being told that you're a mutant happened to be one of them."

"Why bother?" Natasha, this time, asked. "We already have statements from the mutants. We know as much as Alaina does."

Stephen looked like he wanted to say something, his mouth opening and then closing again as he glanced back at Al, but he didn't. Instead, he settled with, "I wanted concrete proof."

"Can we move on?" Steve asked, agitated. Al closed her mouth so she couldn't spit out another retort, and relaxed ever so slightly back into Natasha, making sure to not squash her arm. Her hand lifted from her hip to her waist, crawling underneath her shirt to touch bare skin. Even if the intention wasn't to comfort her, it was working.

Steve gave a slight nod when there was no objection and spoke to Stephen. "Why was she at the compound, then?" he asked. "Her and Castle? It was a facility for mutants. If Stone wanted to hurt Gunley, he would've acted on his threats."

Stephen's lip twitched as he held eye contact with Al. Was this whole situation amusing to him? "Stone believes that he has a connection with you."

"Connection?" Al echoed. "Like how a lion connects with a deer before it snaps its neck?"

"No," Stephen said, "an emotional connection. You were on his radar far before you met the team. He's known you for years, Miss Gunley, much longer than you've known him. Perhaps even longer than you've known Frank Castle."

Stone always seemed somewhat soft when he talked with Al, even caring to an extent, but… emotional connection? She knew he was obsessed, but how much? How long has he been watching her?

He said that he didn't like hurting her.

"He brought your friend along due to jealousy," the doctor answered Steve's previous question. "Frank Castle has loved you for a very long time, and I believe that when Stone witnessed your relationship, he saw red." Al's fingers curled. "When he saw how far you would go to protect Castle, how far he would go to protect you, Stone was angry. He was hurt. The only safe way to hurt you the way you hurt him was by taking it out on Castle."

Alaina couldn't hear anything else.

She couldn't hear the fucking bullshit spewing out of his mouth.

She stormed out and slammed the door shut behind her.

Al wasn't sure if she was upset or relieved that no one followed her out. Sam knew how she got when she was pissed off.

She grabbed the keys for her bike and walked over to the garage, straddled the leather, half-hazardly threw her helmet over her head, and drove.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooo, boy, the plot is picking itself back up.
> 
> I don't think I've ever talked about how long this fic would be, but as of now, I'd say we're a little over halfway there? I already have the ending written out and it's super fluffy and happy so don't worry about that, but...
> 
> Okay. So. I had this idea that I should write a sequel with Infinity War being the focus. I know, I know, I said that I wouldn't make it canon in this fic, but you could 100% end it once this book is complete so you can have a fulfilled and happy ending. Tell me how you'd feel about that.
> 
> Thanks for the dope reviews, have a dope day.


	41. Moments

**_Alaina_ **

Unsure of where to go after she abruptly left her apartment, Alaina found herself driving through Harlem to the Bronx. It was only a few miles out from where she used to live when she was a kid after she moved from Nevada – she was only a baby back then, and it was right after her mom left. She guessed that her dad didn't want the constant reminder, even if that meant living in a rundown town with poverty constantly hanging over their heads.

Now, she was sat on a rickety plastic chair with her ankle resting on her knee, tapping her fingers insistently against the plastic of her coffee cup, mind whirling.

"Sorry 'bout that," Curtis said as he walked back in the room, gently pressing the door shut behind him. They were where Curt usually had his therapy sessions with other soldiers that had PTSD, and although the place wasn't exactly warm or friendly, there was a comfort within that only Curt could pull off. "I would take you back to mine, but Cole and I are renovating. Got a bunch of people watching the house, too."

Al let a small smile pass her lips. "Have you signed all the paperwork, then?" she asked.

His pulled out another chair and sat down in front of Al. "Yup, just one more meeting with the court and we're actually gonna have a kid, a baby girl," Curt answered. "Cole's freaking out like crazy, he's worse than our damn wedding day, I swear." Al remembered Cole having a panic attack right before the ceremony, and she spent thirty minutes comforting him before he calmed down enough to call Curt his husband. "He thinks they're gonna reject us last minute, say some bull about us being unfit parents."

"Well, they won't be able to do that without going to court. And it's 2018, an adoption agency won't be able to reject a gay war veteran with one leg without kicking up a storm," Al pointed out, lightly nudging his metal prosthetic with her toe. "I'd be the storm. I'd go fucking crazy."

Curt snorted out a chuckle and leaned over to take his bottle of water from the table, uncapping it and taking a small sip.

"Sorry I haven't been helping out, Curt," she apologised quietly.

"You've been through a lot of shit—"

"That's not an excuse," Alaina cut him off softly, chewing the inside of her lip. "Even when you had your shitty wooden leg, you still visited me every day after Riley. Frank wasn't there, Bill wasn't there, but you were. I had Sam, too, but I just…" She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "I'm sorry. I should have been helping you out with the house, at least."

"You were kidnapped," Curt said. "Frank was kidnapped with you. You were missing for days, Al. Russo betrayed you, Maria and the kids were killed, Frank was shot, and you were more than likely tortured by that Stone asshole. And Rawlins?" Curt scoffed. "He was part of it, too. Trust me when I say it's fine that you weren't here."

 _Yeah, I was hanging out with the Avengers while you've been stressing out_ , Al thought.

"Seriously," he continued, "if I had a problem with it, I'd damn well tell you, Al. I don't want that same self-loathing crap you had after Riley. You know it ain't good for you."

"Yeah," Al sighed, shrugging a little, "I know, Curt. It's just… It's hard, you know? Feels like I can't even look at Frank without him blaming me for his kids' death. For Maria."

"It's not—"

"But it is," Al interrupted, maybe a bit too sharply, and winced. "Sorry."

"Don't gotta worry. If I was hurt every time someone snapped me, I'd be out of a job," he assured, the corner of his lip quirked up, and Al couldn't help but smile a little. "Have they told you anything else, yet?"

"Um, kinda," Al answered with a shrug, focusing her eyes to the floor. "I don't think they're actually allowed to tell me anything, but they do, mostly, anyway. It's usually just Sam and Tony, but Steve has slipped up a few times." She inhaled a deep breath and let it out through her nose. "The mutants don't have much on Stone or the compound, not even the ones that have been there for years. It's fuzzy, apparently. I think it's the, uh… the nightmare mutant gal. She might be a Wanda-clone, made people forget about their shit. But yeah, none of them are stirring shit. I think they'd try to if they knew Stone was in there with them."

"You gonna visit him?" Curt asked.

"Yeah," Al answered, "I will, just not know." Curt's eyebrows drew together and he leaned back in his seat, a contemplative look on his face. A look Alaina knew all too well. "Curt—"

"It's because of Frank, isn't it? You're gonna wait until he's out on bedrest, out the hospital."

"I'm not the only one that wants to visit Stone," Al said. "He killed Frank's family like it was nothing. I don't know if I want to find out how many others are dead, because of him. Because of me." She felt liquid drip down the backs of her hands and looked down to see that she'd been squeezing the plastic cup so hard that it dented the sides. Releasing the hold, Al breathed, calming herself.

"Did you know that Stone has been watching me for years, Curt?" she continued. "That he has this weird obsession with me and somehow convinced himself that we have an actual connection?" She didn't know Stephen Strange, so he might not be telling the truth, for all she knew, or it could at least be an exaggeration. But he had no reason to lie, and she guessed that he wouldn't in front of the Avengers.

"A connection?" Curt repeated. "What do you mean, connection?"

"Hell, if I knew." Alaina wanted to tell him about how Stone talked to her in the compound, the last conversation they had before she escaped, but she couldn't bring herself to do so. She knew what it was. The same thing happened after Riley died and it was happening now, after the reminder of what happened- the very graphic and vivid reminder, and she knew that if she brought it up, accepted what happened, her mind would collapse. She just knew. "How would I even bring it up."

"You've got the degrees, Al, you'll figure it out," Curt stated with a quirked brow. "You're good at this kind of stuff."

"Good?" Al scoffed out an amused laugh. "I'm good at making rash decisions and that's about it."

"So, make a rash decision," he advised, smiling a knowing smile. "It'll work out. I know it will."

* * *

Alaina left several hours later after promising Curt that she'd drop by his house the following week to visit him and Cole. She was going to force herself to make sure it wouldn't be an empty promise. They went out to dinner in a nifty restaurant and spent almost the entire night talking, reminiscing about their times in the army and some of the things that happened after. Curt wasn't like Frank, he brought up Billy – she didn't miss the way he refused to call him Billy, however, and only referred to him as Russo – but he didn't bring up the compound again. He tried asking her what happened, and she had to resist starting an argument, instead carefully warning him to leave it.

Thankfully, most of the team weren't in her house when she parked her bike in the garage, but it was pretty late so it wasn't much of a surprise. Her front door was fixed like it hadn't been thrown off its hinges by Iron Man himself and Strange was nowhere to be seen. Al needed to send Tony a present.

Sam and Clint were the only ones remaining, and they were sat on her sofa with a can of Pringles between them –  _her_  can of Pringles – and one of the many boxes of Poptarts Clint stored in her house to hide from Thor. The TV was switched on and they were watching something on Netflix Al didn't recognise. Cujo was sleeping on his little bed that had little Mjolnir's on the pillow – a gift her dad insisted on buying.

"Please, take all of my food," Al murmured from behind them, placing her coat on the hanger by the door. "I don't like eating, anyway."

Sam immediately shoved the Pringles away from him and jumped over the back of the sofa, leaping over to wrap Al in a tight hug. She returned it with a soft smile, hidden from his sight, and placed her arms around his waist, giving a light squeeze.

"I love you so much, you know that?" he muttered into her shoulder. "Next time you storm out like that, tell me so I can storm out with you, okay?"

"Okay, Sammy." Al gave him a final squeeze and let go.

"That was cute," Clint mumbled around a mouthful of Poptart, his arm shoved already halfway in the Pringles tube. "We're watching a documentary about the porn industry. Wanna join?"

"Ignore him," Sam said. "He drank four of your beers so he's a bit pissed."

"Pissed, my ass," Clint muttered around a mouthful of Pringles- how the hell did he fit that many? "I'm warm and fuzzy at best. Like a marshmallow that's been on a fire." His hand froze over the Pringles can. "Do you want me to go?"

"No, you can just…" Al closed her eyes, sighing. "Take the guest bedroom or something." If Bucky's not here. "I'm gonna head upstairs and sleep."

"I'll kick him out before you wake up," Sam told her quietly so Clint wouldn't hear. "And Natasha's upstairs, by the way. I think she's sleeping in your bed." With a short smirk and wink, Sam turned and flopped back down on her sofa.

Al rolled her eyes and left the two men to it, turning around to lightly jog up the stairs.

As Sam said, Natasha was laying on her bed awake, a copy of a nameless book in her hand.

Al smiled at the sight of her girlfriend and climbed into bed next to her wordlessly, pulling a blanket over the both of them, Al's head resting on the redhead's shoulder as she read the book along with her.

* * *

The next morning, Alaina was sat on her bed, wearing an old hoodie and a pair of workout shorts. She shucked them on after waking up with Natasha clinging onto her back like a spider monkey, completely asleep, to get her morning coffee. Natasha didn't even wake up when Al carefully untangled her limbs from her body or when she returned, obliviously sleeping, wrapped up in the blanket in a foetal position.

Sam and Clint were gone along with a note that said they were gonna take Cujo out with Clint's dog Lucky, who she had yet to meet. Maybe today would be the day?

Al spent a few minutes simply staring at her girlfriend when she went back to her room, watching the subtle twitch of her lips and furrow of her brows as she dreamt about something. Her red hair was a curly mess, fanning out around her head and across her face, puffing out slightly whenever she let out a breath of air. The shirt she was wearing – Al's vintage Batman shirt – had slipped off her shoulder, revealing freckles scattered across her skin.

Even asleep, she was beautiful.

How the hell did she get so damn blessed?

Alaina smiled, and reached over to gently brush away the mass of hair covering Natasha's face with the backs of her fingers. Natasha's eyelids twitched, her eyebrows drew closer together, parted lips closed and then her eyes opened, revealing the depths of green that Al had come to love.

"Mornin', Cakes," Al whispered, cupping her jaw and brushing her thumb underneath her eye. "Good dream?"

"I beat Steve in an arm wrestling contest." She smiled an adorable sleepy smile. "He cried."

"Cold, Romanoff. That's cold," Al teased and removed her hand from her face, letting it rest on the bed instead.

Natasha was apparently feeling touch-starved this morning, as she lifted her hand from out under the blanket and entwined her fingers with Alaina's, giving a light tug. "Come back to bed," she murmured slowly, quietly. "We never get moments like this."

"Because you're a superhero," Al pointed out lightly. "Well, dating me has probably been more hectic than me dating you… That… didn't make sense."

When Natasha didn't offer a reply and simply stared at her with the faintest smile brushed against her lips, Alaina leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. She pulled away after a moment, but before she could fully sit up, Natasha tightened her grip on her hand and pulled her forwards, sending her sprawling over the redhead.

Al's reflexes kicked in immediately and she let her weight from the force come down on her forearms, which landed on the bed on either side of Natasha's head, to avoid crushing her girlfriend, leaving their faces only a few inches apart.

Natasha was grinning, eyes hooded slightly from only just waking up, but she still managed to look cocky.

"You're adorable," Al muttered under her breath, shifting away from Natasha for a moment to pull the covers over both of their bodies, up to their necks. Natasha dragged herself to cuddle into Al's side, arm around her waist and leg slung over hers, her face resting in the crook of her neck.

Natasha's eyes darted over her face; her eyes, nose, mouth, chin, eyebrows, cheeks, and as she passed each feature, her grin faded into a smile that could only be described as loving.

"Tell me something," Natasha said, breath fanning over her face. She must have woken up earlier and brushed her teeth since it smelled minty. "A story from the army. You have a lot of those."

"Ummm," Alaina hummed, wracking her brain for something, and then remembered one of the stories she recounted with Curt earlier. "Back in Cerebus, me and Curt- Curtis Hoyle were sent on a mission. Well, I was in charge of the mission but my boss wanted me to just send a few of my guys out, but I convinced him that I was more than capable. Long story short, it was a house full of terrorists that had civilians captive and I ended up captured. This dude's knife was held against my stomach and he was spouting some shit about letting him go, Curt didn't know what the hell to do. We got the civilians out and I was ready to tell him to just run, leave me to die. It was part of the job, you know, but then I got this dumb idea. I grabbed the terrorist's hand and forced the knife in my abdomen – it was long enough that it ended up stabbing him, too, and I turned around and knocked him out." It was a pretty rough story, but Al couldn't help but smile a bit. "Curt didn't talk to me for two weeks, but he relented."

Alaina glanced down and saw that Natasha's eyes fluttered shut at some point, but she knew she was awake, judging by the hand that skimmed under her shirt, coming to rest almost immediately on the scar inflicted from the said story.

"You're amazing," Natasha whispered, letting her eyes drift open again.

Al pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Natasha's mouth, and they both fell back asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a note, the Christmas chapter(s) of Night Moves are going to be very late, but I'm gonna start a little something that involved Christmas prompts, where you all give me ideas and I'll write them down. It can be to do with Night Moves or Live & Let Die, whether it be flashbacks or everyone hanging out in a way that's uncanon to the story. PM me or comment if you have any questions and I'd be more than happy to answer.
> 
> Thanks for reading, as always:)
> 
> P.S. Uploaded the first part to a two-part Peter Parker x OFC fic, and there's also a Petr Quill x OFC on there, so feel free to check that out. I take in requests for one-shots:)


	42. Bliss

_**Alaina** _

"Pookie…"

"Nope." Alaina shook her head. "Not hearing it. Even with the nickname, I'm not listening."

"It's just a suggestion."

"Yeah, a suggestion that you're doing with your really cute puppy eyes that make me want to lay down and cry into my carpet," Al stated, throwing Bucky's morning newspaper on the kitchen counter. She needed to find a more effective way of communicating with him that wasn't through letters. He had three newspapers to catch up on. "And the fact that you even suggested it is- it's- it's… it's gross. Disgusting. As a gay woman, I'm offended."

Natasha's eyebrows furrowed but her lip quirked, in a  _what-are-you-talking-about_  expression. "Baking banana bread has nothing to do with your sexuality."

"Um, yes, it does, because if I bake banana bread using a Jamie Oliver recipe I'll feel like a single mother of four children who hates men because she's been divorced three times," she said, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared at her girlfriend defiantly. But… she was doing the puppy eyes… Nope, not listening. Be strong, Al. "And I'd rather shove a brick down my jugular than have a gram of banana bread in my mouth."

"You're so dramatic," Natasha sighed, rolling her eyes. "But fine."

Did… Did Al just win an argument?

"Don't," Natasha warned, seeing the grin slowly spread across Alaina's face. "Don't give me that look. Alaina."

"I'm so telling Clint that I just won an argument against you," Al said, holding herself back from triumphantly fist-bumping the air.

"Remember when you said that you'd rather cut off your own foot and eat it raw than go out to dinner for a date—"

" _That's_  because dinner dates are cliché and every time I have one, it ends horribly," Al cut off, before smiling cheesily. "But I trust that you won't ditch on me or talk about bowel movements."

"I hate you," Natasha murmured with the shake of her head.

Alaina came up behind her, wrapped her arms around the redhead's shoulders and planted a kiss on her cheek. "No, you don't," she whispered, moving to pull away, but Natasha spun on the stool and grabbed her waist, bringing her in for a deeper kiss.

It was slow at first, simply their lips moving together, but then the redhead deepened it. Natasha's tongue traced the seam of her lips for a brief moment before her tongue slipped inside her mouth, gentle yet demanding, and it made Alaina understand why people described kisses as a firework being lit inside your stomach, because she could feel that very firework beginning to set alight, even if they've kissed many times before.

Fingers dug into Alaina's waist as she was pulled towards Natasha's body, almost flying off the stool she was seated with the force, but Al didn't mind. Not one bit. Not with the feel of Natasha's hand resting over her jaw, body pressed against hers and bare legs framing the outside of her thighs. Al's own hand grabbed at the back of Natasha's head, sliding her fingers through smooth red hair without pulling, simply resting against the laxness, while the other cupped her the soft skin of her face, gentle, unlike the kiss.

They pulled away after several long moments, leaving Alaina feeling breathless in the best way possible, and even Natasha was panting a little, her cheeks flushed the same pink as her lips.

"Made ya blush," Al teased, knowing that the same colour adorned her own.

Natasha chuckled and her wide smile died down into a closed-lipped side-grin, her eyes crinkled around the corners. She moved her hand up over her jaw, cheek, and temple to tangle in Al's hair, and she gently pressed the woman forward to place a lingering kiss on her lips. "I'm glad you're okay," she whispered. Her eyes were a brighter green in the morning light, and Al could honestly stare at them all day. "Are… you okay?"

The concern in Natasha's voice made a stabbing pain reverberate through Al's chest unpleasantly.

"I'm fine, Cakes," she assured, removing her hand from bright red hair to rest on her bare shoulder where the shirt had slipped off slightly. She stared at the skin, the smooth lightness of it contrasting against Al's darker tone. "I… I'll be fine. If I can get through watching my friend explode right in front of me, I can handle a little torture."

"It's not about that, Alaina," Natasha sighed. Al huffed and moved to pull away, but Natasha grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back towards her body, her thighs ever so slightly tightening around her hips. "No, don't do this. Don't shut me out like this. Whenever I try to talk, you always pull away. Alaina-" Natasha's pale fingers slid around her wrist, not in a constricting grip that would make her panic, but a loose one, and her thumb turned to carefully rub over her inner wrist. It was the same gesture she used before the gala, Al remembered. The same one she used after she found her in Stone's compound. Al could probably escape the assassin's grip easily, but she just… she couldn't.

"I don't understand what you want," Alaina told her.

"I want my girlfriend to talk to me," Natasha said. "You've been ignoring what happened. None of us know what happened to you. We only know what Strange told us."

"And what has Strange told you?"

"That the mutant showed you something." Al was fighting to keep her expression blank, with Natasha's eyes glued onto her face like she was staring straight through her soul. "Stone's obsession. The mutant, Leon, and that he told you that you have hidden mutant powers. We don't know if you do have powers. You could," she shrugged a shoulder, "but we might never find out."

"Then you know about as much as I do."

"Those are just the facts," Natasha stated, raising a warning eyebrow like she sensed Alaina's want to pull away. "I want to know what's going on…" she tapped her finger against the side of Al's head, "in here."

"Right now I'm thinking about how beautiful and amazing my girlfriend is," Al said, gripping Natasha's fingers to entwine them. Natasha didn't smile. "Not now, Natasha. One day I'll tell you all about and we can forget about Stone and his shittiness, but not now, okay?"

"Okay." Natasha brought her lower lip between her teeth and nodded. "Whatever you want." She released her lip and smiled softly, pulling Alaina closer by their twined hands to press a chaste kiss to her lips. "Я могу влюбиться в тебя."

Alaina pulled back and raised her eyebrows. "You've never spoken Russian to me," she said. "That was weirdly hot. I hope you said, ' _my girlfriend is my favourite person in the entire world and I would do anything for her, including, uh, watch the entirety of Doctor Who with her this weekend before she has to go back to work'_?"

"You wanna binge the entirety of Doctor Who in one weekend?"

"From Eccleston upwards," Al said. "And the Christmas specials."

"Obviously the Christmas specials."

"Can we skip The Doctor's Daughter?"

"Because of the technical incest?"

"Why else?"

"Because it was dull and poorly written."

Wow. She could easily fall in love with this woman.

Al grinned. "God, you're amazing," she muttered, pressing her forehead to Natasha's. "But you'd be even more amazing if we baked double chocolate cookies tonight instead of banana bread?"

Natasha sighed and pulled away, keeping her grip on her waist firm. "Only if it's Jamie Oliver," she reasoned.

"Eh, I can work with that." Alaina fake-grimaced, earning a poke on the waist from Natasha. "Not ticklish."

"I'm sure I could find another way to make you squirm," Natasha murmured suggestively, staring up at Al through her lashes.

"I don't doubt it, Miss Romanoff," Al muttered back, grinning through a chewed lip. "But I need to go out and buy groceries so I don't starve to death." She gently kissed her nose. "Your libido can wait."

Natasha groaned and dug her fingers into Al's waist when she moved to pull away, but this time Al actually fought back and grabbed her wrists, pulling them away from her body.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Manhandling me, Miss Gunley?"

"Stop." Al poked her forehead. "Being." Again. "Horny." And again. "I need to shop."

"Hm, fine," Natasha relented and let Al step back. "I'm gonna have a shower and sleep in some more. Wake me when you get back, 'kay?" Her eyes were sleepy.

"Of course, sweetheart," Al whispered, moving back to press her lips against the skin of her temple.

She felt Natasha smile against her shoulder. "Sweetheart?" she echoed.

"A slip of the tongue- and  _no_ , no comments about tongues. Stop. I have to go now."

Natasha pinched her cheek. "Have fun."

* * *

As Al was scanning the cereal section for Cheerios – the only valid cereal – her phone started ringing from her back pocket. She pulled out the device and checked the caller ID, before frowning and hanging her basket on one arm so she could use the other to hold her phone.

"What's up, Soph?" she answered, only mildly confused.

" _That's 'the best damn attorney in the country' to you_ ," Sophia, Al's lawyer who got her the generous amount of compensation from Stone's company, reminded her. " _What I'm about to tell you can't be repeated to anyone outside of the Avengers. Do you understand?_ "

Al's eyebrows raised as she glanced around the aisle, only to see that it was completely empty. It was a Thursday, after all. "Uh-oh," she muttered.

" _Commander Roman Bass, Sargent Sean Wyatt, and Lieutenants Cole Rocha and Chad Hansen have all been released from their duty due to stealing money from the army's budget_ ," she explained. Alaina's heart sped up in her chest. " _I just came back from court and we collectively decided that they would each pay $50,000 fines, and if they don't do it in the next 6 months, the story will go public and their chances at getting any other jobs will be terminated completely._ "

"Wh- What?" Al stammered. "Sophia, what are you-?"

" _Mr Stark found the names of the people who assaulted you in the army, Miss Gunley_ ," Sophia said, the  _strict lawyer_  tone leaving her voice. " _He found the reports you filed years ago. The ones that they ignored and deleted immediately, but thankfully, you were very descriptive as to who it was. Mr Stark set up a fake money laundering scheme and pinned it on them, and kindly told them that if they denied it, he would release the records and ruin their reputation._ "

"St-  _Tony_  did that?" Al asked, in shock. Disbelief. Even terror. "But, I… I told him yesterday. I  _just_  told him."

" _Mr Stark works fast_ ," Sophia said, almost proudly. " _He didn't want you to know, but I thought I should tell you. I… Miss Potts told me what you did for him. When he was going through relapse, and I'd like to thank you. Mr Stark isn't good at asking for help, let alone making friends, so… he appreciates it, a lot, even if he'd never admit it. I appreciate it, too_."

"Wha- Soph- I don't-"

" _Give him a call_ ," the lawyer suggested. " _Take him out for dinner or something. As a quiet thank you. He'd like that._ "

And she hung up.

Uhhh… what?

Tony, he…? He  _did_  that? For her?

"Oh, fuck," she muttered under her breath. One day off would be nice. " _Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck_ …"

Turning on her mobile data to check the news, the first headline Alaina saw, typed out in bold in The Daily Bugle was:

**4 Soldiers Arrested After Old Files About Sexual Assault Are Released: Is The Army A Dangerous Place For Women?**

* * *

_**Tony** _

"Y _ou have a voicemail from Alaina Gunley, sir_ ," Jarvis informed Tony after he collapsed onto his bed. It was... yup, 3 p.m. And he hasn't slept at all.

"Go ahead, J," he ordered, rubbing his stinging eyes. "Play it."

" _Hey, uh, Tony_ , _so I have a situation_ ," Al's shaky voice began. Tony sat up immediately, mouth open and ready to call the team. " _I'm having a mild panic attack in the bathroom at Wendy's because it was the closest bathroom to Walmart, and I'm entirely blaming you for this_." Tony's heart sped up. " _Before I met you, I kind of hated you. I mean, I was a fan and everything, but the media and news aren't huge fans of you. I'm sure you already know that. Anyway, I, um, and then we talked and you found me a job after talking for like 3 minutes and it really meant a lot, I can't... I can't even explain it, I guess. I could talk about all the shit in between but I can't really think right now- this bathroom literally smells of diarrhoea and it's nasty as hell, but... well, Sophia called and told me what you did. And I read the news. You... You told them that you were just doing the money laundering charges, right? But you released the files anyway. I can't- actually, I can believe that you did that. I just... I don't know. I went off on a tangent, didn't I? Just wanted to say thank you, I guess. For everything, but especially... this. There was a reason I told Stone off that night._ _You're, uh, you're a good man, Tony. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise because I'll fight them. I mean, I will literally fight them. I'll see you soon."_

The voicemail ended and Tony immediately drifted off, with a little more warmth in his chest than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: Я могу влюбиться в тебя - I could fall in love with you.
> 
> ...
> 
> First things first, I am so fucking sorry for not updating holy shit. I had exams this week and I've also moved house so my life has literally been a nightmare, but I'm back!
> 
> Quick updates: Endgame made me suicidal, I'm having so many Tony feels right now so don't be surprised if he becomes a big(ger) part of this fic, and it's chRISTMAS IN TWO DAYS!!!! Tell me all your plans and what you wanna get and what you've got other ppl! I got my brother a lot of alcohol and that's about it. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and stay gay!


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